
Book .f AUI. ^ 

By bequest of 

William Lukens Shoemaker 



LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR AND PUBLISHER 



LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

First Series 

SOME PRESS NOTICES 

Daily Cluronlcle.— " Mr. Leland adds to the 
qualifications of a practical collector and sifter of 
popular legends and antiquities that of a charming 
literary style, singularly adapted to his subject- 
matter. . . . There is, in fact, no page at which the 
present book may be opened that will not afford 
new points of interest to the general reader as well 
as the student of folk-lore. " 

Westminster Gazette. — "This is a charming 
collection of legends, obtained for the most part 
from the folk-lore library in the head of a certain 
Maddalena, a native of the Romagna Toscana, 
versed in witchcraft. Mr. Leland re-tells the stories 
with many interesting remarks by the way, and with 
much humour." 

Scotsman. — ' ' Folk-lorist and general reader alike 
will pore over this collection with huge delight." 

Morning Post. — "In 1886 the author made the 
acquaintance of a woman of Florence skilled in 
fortune-telling and mystical cures, who not only ex- 
hausted her own stock of stories, but hunted up her 
acquaintances for more. Mr. Leland has also been 
'free' of the 'community of witches,' who are the 
repositories of Italian folk-lore, for some years." 

Boolunan. — ' ' His book and its general spirit are 
fascinating." 

Iiirerpool BcTiew. — " Mr. Leland is always de- 
lightful." 

Tlie Realm. — "A fascinating mdange" 

Sunday Times. — "Full of interest." 



3Legenli0 of ^Florence 

CoIlecteD from tfte people 

And Re-told 

y 

Charles Qodfrey Leland 

{Hans Breitmann) 



Second ^eriesf 



NEW YORK 

M A C MILL AN AND CO. 

66 FIFTH AVENUE 

1896 



^^ 



■f^^ 






Gift. 

W. L. Shoemaker 

7 • S '06 



Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co. 
At the Ballantyne Press 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

La Torre del Gallo, or the Tower of Galileo . . i 
The Doors of the Baptistery in Florence, or the Legend 

OF Ghiberti 6 

The Ghostly Smith (Lo Spirito Manescalco), or How 

Santa Croce got its Name ii 

The Spirit of the Arno 14 

The Red Pillars of the Baptistery 21 

Stories of Fiesole 34 

A Legend of the Speakii^ig Statues of the Via Cerre- 

tani 53 

The Sculptor and the Goddess Venus : the Origin of 

THE Venus di Medicis 57 

The Spell of Boccaccio, or How the Great Writers of 

Florence became Geniuses 61 

The Sibyls of Florence 68 

The Story of San Antonino and the Barber ... 74 

A Legend of the Via Gelsumino, or How the City of 

Florence got its Name 81 

The Faun of the Fountain 84 

The Legend of La Villa Salviati and of La Via Canacci 89 

Ugolo and Gherardo 97 

The Palazzo Strozzino " . . . 103 



vi CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A Story of La Via Porta Rossa, or How Signore Dozzi 

Stole the Donkey 107 

The Grand Duke, or the Novel of Ipolito the True- 
hearted Man 115 

Legends of La Via del Corno 121 

A Legend of the Medici 128 

The Pebbles of the Arno 135 

La Torre dei Ricci of La Via Santa Elisabetta . .139 

The Story of the Via della Morte 142 

The Dead Returned to Life 146 

Legends of the Fountain of the Chiasso del Buco . . 149 

The Story of Evandro the Fool and his Wise Uncle . 156 

The Column of San Zenobio 162 

The Wonderful Conjuration of Bacchus . . . .168 

Legend of La Via Condotta, the Musical Statue . • i7S 

The Dream of the Egg 179 

Legend of La Via dei Sassetti, or the Corner of the 

Four Devils 184 

The Cousin 188 

A Legend of La Via dei Velluti 191 

La Diavolina 196 

The Bat 202 

Delberto 204 

Diana 209 

The Dreams of Gualtiero 215 

II Moscone, or the Blue -Bottle Fly and the Mos- 
quitoes 220 

La Via del Gomitolo del Oro, and How it got its Name 227 



CONTENTS vii 

PAGE 

Legend of La Piazza dei Tre Re, or How the Three 
Kings of the East appeared to a Young Man in 

Florence 230 

Pico di Mirandola 234 

The Ring, or Diamond Cut Diamond 240 

Venus and the Ring 242 

Lamia . . . 248 

The Florentine Legend of Lamia 256 

The Crickets of the Cascine 260 

INDEX 273 



LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 



LA TORRE DEL GALLO, OR THE 
TOWER OF GALILEO 

" Hung o'er his shoulders like the moon, whose orb 
Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views, 
At evening, from the top of Fiesole, 
Or in Valdarno to espy new lands. 
Rivers, or mountains in her spotty globe. " 

— Milton, Paradise Lost. 

" A cockatrice hast thou hatched to the world, 
Whose unavoided eye is murtherous." 

— Shakespeare, King Richard the Third. 

I 
The invaluable, and often accurate, though at times 
poetical, John Murray, when guiding us about Central 
Italy, remarks that the Torre del Gallo in Florence was 
named after the family to which it belonged. But the 
Vox populi or public opinion hath it quite otherwise, and 
derives the term from a very different source. In which, 
as in too many cases, the said Vox is assuredly a Vox 
diaboli, or voice of diabolical falsehood ; but that is none 
of my business — surely. And as the building is better 
known as Galileo's Tower, the tourist naturally believes 
that Gallo is Galileo abbreviated. 

But Gallo or Gallio, this time-serving tower is of world- 
wide fame, and every astronomer should wear a blessed 
pebble from it in a ring, for in it most of those observations 
were made to which Milton alludes in the description of 
Satan's shield which I have placed as a most appropriate 

II A 



2 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

motto to this somewhat diaboHcal chapter. The building 
is said to be almost the same as it was in Galileo's time ; 
it is marvellous that it has not been torn entirely down, 
as was the house of Dante, and rebuilt, omitting all the 
ancient picturesqueness, as is the wont in Italy, in order 
to ''improve it." It has been fitted up as a museum of 
Galilean curiosities, and some of these are interesting in- 
deed. Not far below it is the Villa del Gioiello, or Jewel 
Villa, where from 163 1 to 1642 Galileo dwelt, and where 
he was certainly visited by John Milton in 1638. And here 
I note a strange coincidence. When Galileo was '' aban- 
doned and neglected by his Medicean protectors," and 
was cruelly and infamously persecuted by the Church 
("which never yet changed, from the beginning, the 
millionth part of a hair's-breadth of a doctrine in anj^- 
thing "), it w.as here that the sage lost his sight, and died. 

That Galileo and Milton both became bhnd is sad and 
strange, the more so when we reflect that it was the world 
and the Church in different forms which persecuted and 
was blind to them. That such children of light should 
have lived in darkness is indeed terrible. And truly it is 
something more than a mere flight of fancy to say that 
Galileo was the Itahan Milton, when we reflect how the 
souls of both wandered with the stars, seeing in them, as 
Jean Paul did, '' eyes of light." 

The legend which is attached to this villa has nothing 
to do with Galileo, but it contains a very curious fragment 
of very ancient folk-lore. £t verbatim sic. 

La Torre del Gallo. 

"This is a very ancient tower on a hill beyond San Miniato, 
and it was indeed once a tower of terror to all who had to pass 
it by night ; for one beheld a mighty serpent which made as if 
it would pursue one, while another encountered a devil — some 
one horror and some another. And those who boasted that 
they had no fear, and dared to pass it by night, were sure to 



LA TORRE DEL GALLO 3 

hear coming from it ghastly hissings, and screeching, whistling 
sounds so appalling that those who listened to them sickened 
with dread, and got, as it were, a malady from which they 
slowly died. 

" Then after a time children began to disappear, and no one 
knew where they had gone, or what became of them, and a 
malady as of fear and horror came over all who dwelt near 
the place ; and no man knew what it was nor whence it came ; 
all that they knew was that heart and hope had gone out 
of them, and they lived like heart-broken men and women 
in despair awaiting death. 

" Now near this tower dwelt a priest, over whom the terror 
or malady had no power; and one hot afternoon when he, 
having no desire to sleep, was looking from his window, he 
saw all at once in it a strange being, which was one half a 
great serpent and one half a cock. 

"Then the priest took his gun, and loaded it with a wax 
taper,^ and got ready a great basin, and fired at the cock- 
serpent ; and he had so contrived it that the creature fell into 
the basin of (holy) water, into which it voided all its venom, 
so that the water became of a deep green colour. And this 
done, the evil spirit lost its power, and fear and sickness were 
no longer on the souls of those who dwelt thereabout, nor 
were children any longer ' missing, and all the parents and 
the poor sufferers went to thank the priest. 

"And thus it was that the name of the Torre del Gallo 
first came, because, as it is said, the serpent was born of a 
cock, whence it was half a cock in form — e cost va avanti 
sempre la Torre del Gallo" 

There are probably very few of my readers v^^ho will 
not recognise in the serpent-cock the deadly basilisk, 
familiar in fabled lore, which is depicted in Aldrovandus 
and all old writers on monsters. It killed people with 
its Medusa-glance, it spread about it an upas atmosphere 
of death — it was Horror personified. There is a vast 
amount of folk-lore current regarding it, and much con- 
fusion therein. 

When I was young, I often heard the question, " Why 
is a hen immortal?" the answer being, "Because her 

^ Charicha ilfucile a cera. 



4 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

son never sets." But according to the old dealers in 
wonders, a cock when seven years old lays an egg, on 
which he sets, and from which a basilisk, or, as some 
call it, a cockatrice^ is hatched. One form of it is probably 
the mysterious Manicore, common in English cathedrals, 
which has the head of a woman, the body of a cock or 
of an egg, and the tail of a serpent, signifying the World, 
the Flesh, and the Devil. It was originally a Gnostic- 
Egyptian astrologic symbol. It became involved with 
the Abraxas and Abracadabra, and all kinds of occult 
tradition, and its investigation leads us into a labyrinth 
of sorceries. Allied to it, yet not quite the same, is the 
Manticora with a hon's body, but I confess a very dim 
memory, as regards these names and things. The reader 
will find much on the subject in Baring Gould's works, 
and especially in Myth-Land, by Edward Hulme. 

But I wonder whether Galileo himself is not in this 
legend the priest who shot the serpent. 

There is a story which I read many years ago in a 
Norse book oi faceticB, how once in Bergen an astronomer 
had planted *^a telescope upon a frame and pointed to 
the sky," in a public place to take observations, being 
carefully observed the while by two watchmen or police 
officials, to whom his movements seemed very suspicious. 
At last, when all was arranged, he took a sight — and lo ! 
just at that instant a meteor shot downward from the 
sky like a long fiery serpent ! 

The watchmen at once in great anger seized on the 
sage, bidding him cease all such work unless he would 
go to prison. " It is quite dark enough as it is," they 
said, " and if you shoot any more stars we shall have no 
light at all." But in any case, GaHleo the astronomer 
by his increasing knowledge helped to kill the snake of 
ignorance and darkness, though the Police thought it was 
the other way. 

The visit to Galileo deeply impressed Milton, and there 



LA TORRE DEL GALLO 5 

can be no rational doubt that the latter referred to the 
Torre del Gallo when he wrote : 

*' Or may my lamp at midnight hour 
Be seen from some high, lonely tower, 
Where I may long outwatch the Bear 
With thrice great Hermes, or unsphere 
The spirit of Plato, or unfold 
What worlds or what vast regions hold 
The immortal soul that hath forsook 
Her mansion in this fleshly nook." 

It is all worth thinking of when we visit the Torre del 
Gallo. 

I cannot now recall the name of the great writer of 
the Reformation who campared the Church of Rome 
to a basilisk engenaered between that old serpent the 
devil and the cock of St. Peter, but to such a zealous 
Protestant it would have been marvellously illustrated 
by this legend of the Tower of Galileo. The basilisk, 
like the Gorgon of old, benumbed into death every one 
with its glance; it was the symbol of reaction, of that 
petrifaction which causes men everywhere to regard the 
" old fossil " as the ideal of ultra and stupid conservatism, 
and which puts men to torture and the rack, as Galileo was 
put, for announcing plain truth. And the Basilisk would 
have put him to death had he not nominally recanted. 

" Oh, ye," writes the sage Flaxius, " who condemn, and would 
fain kill, all who utter new things which ye hate, because they 
are new unto you — beware lest the High Cockalorum Copper- 
head Serpent of excessive Conservatism and Vanity, which 
is all one with the Basilisk, enter into your hearts ! It was 
this Basilisk which inspired men to crucify Christ, and it has 
since then caused the death and torture of millions in His 
name. Yes, beware of the Basilisk wherever ye be, for it 
hath myriad forms, and benumbs us all more or less, when 
and where we least suspect its existence. 

" * Life hath many a sin and risk, 

But its greatest curse is the Basilisk.' 

"Yet the truth has triumphed despite the Basilisk, both 
in religion and astronomy — Vicisti Galila 1 " 



THE DOORS OF THE BAPTISTERY IN FLOR- 
ENCE, OR THE LEGEND OF GHIBERTI 

* ' And his handiwork did honour to his professions, for he portrayed in 
bronze many and many a shape most beautifully." — Saxo Gramtnaticus ^ 
Book III. 

If there be any one object in Florence, or objects, which 
the traveller is as sure to see as his hotel-bill, it is the 
gates of the Baptistery of St. John, before which you 
may behold at all times tourists alternately reading from 
Murray or Baedeker and looking at the bronze. There- 
fore I was extremely desirous to find a legend of the 
people on the subject, but it was a long time before I 
obtained the following. 

" There was once in Florence a young sculptor named Ghi- 
berti. He had a true, kind heart and great talent in his art, 
but, as the proverb says — 

" ' Chi non ha debito, 
Non ha credit©.' 

" He who has no debts has never been trusted, and he who 
has no enemies has neither success nor talent ; and as Ghiberti 
was fortunate and successful, he had many to envy, who became 
enemies. 

" Now it came to pass that Ghiberti was to make the great 
bronze doors of the Baptistery of St. John in Florence; for 
he was as much the master among all other sculptors as the 
cathedral rises above all the smaller churches. 

"Then his rivals hired a sorceress to bewitch Ghiberti, so 
that he could not work as he had done. He found that his 
thoughts went astray as if he were mad. If he began to make 
a puttino or cupid or an angel, when it was done it looked 
like a monkey or a goblin or a devil. 



THE DOORS OF THE BAPTISTERY IN FLORENCE 7 

" There was at this time in Florence a very beautiful woman 
who knew more than merely how to spin or eat bread, and no 
wonder, for she was half fairy, or angel, and the other half 
sorceress. Anyhow she was wise, and very good when it 
pleased her so to be now and then. Her name was Teodora, 
and she was a bitter enemy to Chanetta, the one who had 
bewitched Ghiberti. 

" One day Teodora went to the studio of Ghiberti to see the 
beautiful works of art. There she found a vase which pleased 
her so that she determined to buy it. But Ghiberti, who had 
been much smitten by her beauty and marvellous intelligence, 
insisted that she should accept the bronze as a gift. 

"Then Teodora, thanking him graciously, asked him with 
much interest and kindly, how all went with him in his work, 
and if the gate was getting on well. 

" Hearing this, Ghiberti sighed, and answered that it went 
badly indeed, and so poco-a-poco^ little by little, told her all 
his trouble ; and she, who had fallen head over ears in love 
with him, replied after a pause : 

" ' Now I will tell the whole truth, which is that thou art 
bewitched, nor can the spell be broken by me, since, as the 
proverb says, contra la forza 7ion vale ragtone — reason can 
do nothing against superior strength; yet it is also true that 
strength may yield to craft, and to fight the devil one needs a 
devil and a half. 

" ' One witch must not undo the work of another, and to 
restore thy talent would take much time, yes, months to 
sweep away all this cursed work, and I am but a new broom. 
Granata nuova, tre di buona — a new broom sweeps clean only 
three days. And yet I can bring it to pass at once that thou 
canst have the gates made in bronze, and that so magnificently 
that thou canst gain the prize. 

" ' Know that there are about us in the air thousands of 
folletfi, goblin-sprites, who live in fear lest they shall some day 
perish, since after a thousand years their life must end, and 
many fear lest they should become devils. Therefore they are 
delighted when they can become statues or any objects in 
churches, for then they can be saved. 

" ' Many of the images which thou seest in old churches 
were not made by man, but are goblins turned to stone. 
They dwell in the stone as a bee lives in his hive, as a man 
in a house, and fly forth when they please. 

" ' Now I will come here to-night, for this is a great hall, 



8 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

such as I need for the work, and one where we shall not be 
disturbed, and after midnight thou shalt see wonderful things.' 
"So she came that night, and after making a conjuration, 
there appeared a great number of spirits, whom Teodora thus 
addressed : — 

" ' Voi, belli folletti tutti ! 
Spirit! gentili dell' aria ! 
Se volete essere immortali, 
Come gli altri Cristiani, 
E non essere dannati, 
E sempre essere felici, 
Nel regno beato del cielo, 
E vedere I'aspetto di Dio, 
Divenite belle statue, 
Belle statue di bronzo, 
Figurini nell' portone 
Delia chiesa San Giovanni 
Nella bella Batisteria.' 



(( ( 



All ye beauteous fairy beings, 
Lovely and aerial spirits, 
If ye wish to be immortal, 
And become as other Christians, 
And not be condemned for ever, 
But for ever live contented 
In the blest abode of Heaven, 
Where ye can behold the Father, 
Then be turned to charming statues, 
Statues made of bronze, and resting 
In the Church of San Giovanni, 
Figurini in the portal 
Of the fair Battisteria. ' 

" Then Ghiberti beheld the spirits arranging themselves in 
groups and turning to bronze, and ere long the gates were 
finished. 

" So Ghiberti won the great reward, as well as the love of 
Teodora, who was ever with him. 

"Now all the figures in these doors are the forms which 
goblins still inhabit. He or she who bears a magic ring, or 
a stone with a hole in it which has been duly conjured, or 
who was born on a Sunday, may see by looking through the 
ring or stone the spirits flying into or out of the statues or 
figurini. But the Sunday-born needs no ring, for he can look 
through his hand, rounding the fingers like a tube. 

" And it is also said that the small figures of bronze or terra- 
cotta which are found in tombs or elsewhere in the country 
were all once spirits in the ancient time ; and there are many 
people who still use them for magic or as charms. 



THE DOORS OF THE BAPTISTERY IN FLORENCE 9 

"And all the figures which are of old time, such as the 
images in churches, which were once spirits, can be conjured 
with spells to speak and reveal secrets. For some of them 
know where treasures are hid, and others can tell how to cure 
disorders or win love, or where to go to secure good fortune. 
And thus it happened of old that people knew so much more 
about hidden things than we do, because they conversed more 
with goblins ; but since the priests have forbidden such things 
men have grown ignorant." 

This legend reminds me of something of w^hich I should 
have spoken long before. When the reader is told that 
these tales come from ignorant old vi^itches, and finds in 
them indications of a know^ledge of art or literary culture, 
he will, judging by experience in England or America, 
think that this has been '^ foisted in " by the author, 
especially when the latter has been candid or foolish 
enough to admit that he kas occasionally hammered a 
rusty old key into shape and poHshed it. But it must 
be remembered that till within a generation people of all 
classes and cultures in It^ly believed in all this witchery 
and romance, and entered deeply into it — nobles and 
artists often being sorcerers. And when we bear it in 
mind that a strange proportion of the commonest soldo- 
reading of the populace consists of classic, mediaeval, or 
poetic themes, which would be as foreign to a London 
costermonger or 'Arriet as Newton's Principia, my mean- 
ing cannot fail to be understood. To which the careful 
Flaxius appends : 

" It happened to me, once upon a time, to hear a man of 
humble station say that nobody is really very great till folk 
begin to tell lies about him, — he meaning thereby not simply 
evil reports, but inventions of all kinds, whether eulogistic or 
* slanderogatory,' epitaphs or hbels. Even so 'twould seem 
that, in obedience to this higher law, poets or artists may be 
detected as distingues by the untruthful, albeit romantic 
legends which attach themselves to their names — the moral of 
it all being that bees as well as wasps light only on the best 



lo LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

fruit — or the vilest worms burrow within — turning the best to 
corruption. 

*" By their tales shall ye know them.' This being true, it 
behoves him who would be famous, or at least well known to 
men, to see that during his life there be a good store of lies 
— I mean stories — well and carefully invented, all about him- 
self, to be judiciously sprinkled, or skedaddled, or dropped 
along and distributed in libraries and among the pubHc, 
particularly after his death. And I am verily of the opinion 
that Michael Angelo actually kept a scribe to manufacture 
anecdotes and repartees for him, or else that he paid people at 
large sixpence apiece for them. 

"And note ye, that these ana^ to 'take,' must not be too 
politeful or indicating a partial friend. Nay — 'twere better 
that there should be some jolly ^/j--respect therein to indicate 
absolute truth. Thus if the Honourable Grand Old Man, 
acting on this hint, should prepare such a work, 'twould be far 
more advisable to call it ' Jolly Jokes by Old Bill,' or ' Howling 
Humbugs and Diddling Delusions of a Grand Back Gammoner,' 
than to give it a more comphmentary title— since under such 
misleading names one can artfully introduce impressions of 
the very ne plus ultra of all that is noble, crafty, able, artful, 
wise, subtle, cunning, feline, leonine, vulpine, glorious, wily, sly, 
insidiously moral, clever, ingenious, tricky, facile, dexterous, 
adroit, ambiguous and bold. In which words are enume- 
rated — when combined with Success — that which will go 
further to make a man popular than all the virtues — tout en 
scramble — which were ever realised or imagined." 



THE GHOSTLY SMITH {LO SPIRITO MANES- 
CALCO\ OR HOW SANTA CROCE GOT ITS 

NAME 

" Hear'st thou afar a hammer's strokes 
Deep ringing in the dark ? 
The Goblin Smith among the oaks, 
Still at his mighty work ? 

And be it slow or faster, 
He still must beat away. 
Until he finds his master, 
Or to the judgment- day." 

The following legend is given verbatim, with the excep- 
tion of three entire words by me, which are enclosed in 
a parenthesis : 

" There was once in days of yore a Friar who was in every 
way a good man, and moreover a great artist in metal, work- 
ing with wondrous skill in iron or gold. And every morning 
when he woke he uttered this prayer : 

"'O Lord, who art so good and merciful, I pray Thee 
aid me that I this day may do some good to some one, for 
without Thy aid I can do nothing.' 

" One night when he was travelling alone and late through 
a gloomy wood, where he was almost sure that he must pass 
the night al fresco in the open air, he heard very far away 
regularly repeated strokes, as of a hammer on metal. 

" Then the good Friar said to himself, ' That is beyond all 
doubt some blacksmith at his work. O Lord, with Thy aid 
I shall now find a night's lodging ! ' 

"So he followed the sound for a long time through the 
windings of the wood, here and there — truly it was very rough 
travelling after rain, over stumps and in the thickets — till at 
last he saw a light, and following it up, came to a forge. 

" And there he indeed saw, busily working, a man who was 
very terrible to behold, yea, who seemed as if suffering awful 



12 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

agony. His face was pale as wax, his eyes glared like those 
of a spirit. He was hammering at a large iron crucifix, and 
with every blow he uttered a groan. 

" ' What art thou doing, in the name of God ? ' asked the 
Friar. 

" ' I am a poor soul condemned to work night and day on 
this crucifix,' was the reply. 

" ' I was once a great artist in metal, and far too proud of 
my skill. Now it came to pass that I began to make this 
crucifix, which I declared should be my greatest work. And 
when Good Friday came, every one said to me that I must 
stop working, but I replied, " Be it Friday good or bad — 
Venerdi santo o non santo — I'll not stop working till this work 
is done ! " 

" ' When lo ! I heard a voice which said : 

" ' " Thou shalt indeed labour at the crucifix and know no 
rest, until one shall come who is more expert than thou art ! " 

" ' Now three hundred years have passed, and I work without 
rest or peace, and my great skill has been my great misery, and 
prolongs my penance. For many have come to strive with 
me, but none are my equals ; and what makes it worse for me 
is that in these later days men no longer work in metal with 
such art as we had in our time.' 

" Then the good Friar said, ' Let me try ! ' 

"So he began to pray to San Luigi^ and to work at the 
same time. 

" Then the smith, beholding this, was sore amazed ; he stood 
as if enchanted or turned to stone, beholding the marvellous 
work executed by the priest. 

" The fire shone marvellously, as if it would aid, vfhilQ follettt 
and goblins came forth (from the forest), and gathered round 
amazed to behold the cross. 

" The Monk at last said, ' E finito ! — 'Tis done ! ' 

" ' Yea, it is more beautiful than aught which I could ever 
have done,' gasped the dying smith. ' Sono in pace — now I 
am at rest.' 

" And saying this, the Manescalco fell to dust, from which 
rose a spirit of light which flew up to Heaven. 

" * I thank thee, O God ! ' exclaimed the Friar, * that I by 
Thy aid have this day done one good work ! ' 

"So the smith was at peace, and the good Friar went his 

^ /.^., Eligio, Aloysius, Aloy, the St. Eloi of the French, the patron- 
saint of metal-workers. 



THE GHOSTLY SMITH 13 

way to bless others, which is the best life here on earth. And 
the crucifix, which he bore away with him, is to be seen to this 
day in the Church of Santa Croce in Florence, and it was from 
that that it took its name." 

" Ifisc fabula docet^'' wrote the ever deductive or moralising 
Flaxius, " that dogged perseverance to small purpose is a 
foolish business. This tale is like that of Peter Rugg, who 
dwelt in Boston, and once when a storm was coming up, 
which he was told would render his immediate return im- 
possible, swore that he would get home that night, ' or else,' 
he added, ' may I never see home ! ' And Fate took him at 
his word. For a hundred years Peter Rugg drove all over 
Eastern Massachusetts, just in advance of a terrific storm, 
anxiously inquiring, like a dazed, lost man, the way to Boston. 
And this lasted till the home passed away, when he vanished. 

" And such, too, was the strange and eerie fate of Wolfram 
Schreckenspuk of Nuremberg, who swore that he would work at 
making buttons till he had made a thousand gulden. Which 
thing he indeed accomplished, but lost during the task golden 
opportunities to make a thousand times as much — to say 
nothing of a bride and other small things of the sort. 

"Truly perseverance is a very great virtue, but 'tis mis- 
applied when blindly persisted in, or there is not talent enough 
to back it. Perseverando vinces was illustrated on the old 
Continental money by the picture of a bear endeavouring to 
climb an ice-bank. Yet it might have happened that the bear 
would have done better by trying to climb another place." 



THE SPIRIT OF THE ARNO 

** I hear a Voice you cannot hear, 
Which says I must not stay : 
I see a Hand you cannot see, 
Which beckons me away." 

— TiCKELL. 

"And Maestro Giuliano del Carmine, who read unto great audiences on 
astrology at Pisa, declared that every man hath a spirit or fata, which leads 
him on to strange adventure or to startling chance, and this appears to him 
at least once in this life as a white small hand." — Facerie e Burle^ 1593- 

The memory of every man retains what may be called 
strange moments of his life, the memorabilia of startling 
sights — electric revelations, in a word ; spirits of fire and 
light, an instant seen in the dark night and then invisible ; 
a lovely face one second in a crowd, coming and going 
even as meteors do, yet which in future never are forgot. 
They are great and small these spirits, who, disguised 
as events, emotions, revelations, dreams, music, tones, 
words, and images, flash, fly before and overcome us, 
a rimprovistCy departing with the instant as they came, 
yet leaving aye a mark indelible, as doth the lightning 
when it leaps to earth. Some are very small, a mere 
spark; but they all agree in never being forgotten, and 
there indeed a visioned wonder lies ! To illustrate this 
theory not only of the words and tones which dart an 
instant's sunshine through the heart, but also of innumer- 
able other motives which startle us indeed through every 
sense, sometimes with terror, and often with no definite 
feeling, I may mention that when I was seven or eight years 
of age, I read a magazine-story of which I remember 
nothing but this, that the heroine, whoever she was, beheld 



THE SPIRIT OF THE ARNO 15 

in a critical moment of awe — I think it wavS in some pro- 
found abyss or whirling eddy in an ocean storm — *'a 
small white hand pointing tremulously upwards ; " which I 
have cited elsewhere, I believe. This never vanished from 
my memory ; nay, I am sure no week has ever passed since 
that dark rainy Sunday afternoon, when I in the dining- 
room tried to forget gloom in a bound volume of the Phila- 
delphia Portfolio of 1 83 1, that it has not risen before me. 
I regret to say that at the time I vaguely confused *^ tremu- 
lously" with "tremendously;" but 'twas of no consequence; 
perhaps that made it all the more terrible. 

I am reminded of this undying memory by the dis- 
covery that the naiad or spirit of the stream which runs 
before my window as I write — that is to say, the Arno — 
also appears in the form of a female hand. It is perhaps 
in the nature of things, or secondarily innate creativeness, 
that this should be so, for I believe that it is to be found 
in some form in the literature or folk-lore of every land. It 
is told very prettily how, in the olden time in Norway, the 
spirit of the river, Huldra, was wont to receive from her 
human friends what we may call a Christmas-cake. Now 
it befell on a time that a fisherman brought his cake, but 
could not throw it into the stream because the latter was 
frozen very thickly. Then he toiled to make a hole, but 
could only bore a very small opening, not large enough 
to admit the cake. So he laid his gift on the ice, and 
watched at a distance to see what would befall. When 
lo ! there came mysteriously winding up from below a 
very beautiful small white hand. 

" Little indeed it was, 
Small as the hand of Freya ; 
She the all-beautiful, 

White as snow, 
Pinked by early morning shine. 
Seizing the cake-offering, 
It drew it down through the hole, 
All shrinking to a thread in narrowness : 

So the Buldt-a 

Got her offering." 



i6 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Hence came the proverb paid in Norway to a lady 
when one says that she has a hand like a water-spirit.^ 
One of the most striking pictures in the Morte d Arthur 
is that of the hand which rises from the mere and catches 
the great sword Excalibur. 

As may be supposed, I did not behold here and there 
in Florence mysterious ancient images of hands rising 
above the surface of a stream without conjecturing that 
in them a legend lay hidden. And per Bacco, or Pan, the 
master of all mysteries ! one may safely wager all the 
bank-bills that in his pocket lie, on finding a tradition old 
and strange in Florence, on less evidence than this. So I 
soon obtained the following, even as is here given, save 
what is in parentheses : 

The Spirit of the Arno. 

"There was a man long ago, who had the fancy to sit for 
hours by the Arno and watch its waters. In those days the 
river was much larger than at present, for the Mugnone was a 
part of it, and the freshets or inundations were terrible, and 
covered even the Piazza della Signoria ; and after great rains 
they came so rapidly that many were drowned ere they could 
escape. 

" One day this man had a gold piece ; other money he had 
none in the world. But he was not one of whom you could 
say Poverta fa ruomo vile — poverty makes a man mean, but 
rather, Poverta non guasia gentilezza — poverty does not debase 
nobility. For as he sat, he saw, to his amazement, a small 
white hand, like a woman's, rise from the water and stretch 
out to him its open palm as if begging. Whereupon he threw 
to it his gold coin, which was caught, and the hand waved 
a sign which said, ' I thank you,' as plainly (as if with polite 
words). 

" On an evening soon after, as he sat by the river, he saw 
the'i hand again, which rose from the stream surrounded by a 
watery cloud (or, as it were, a wreath of rolling water), and it 
beckoned to him with rapid movements to follow in haste. 
So he rose and went on after it, and it led him to the corner 

^ Das Auslandy 1835, No. 263. 



THE SPIRIT OF THE ARNO 17 

of the Via dei Neri, in the Piazza di San Remigio, where it 
rose from the level of his eyes to two bracchie or fathoms or 
more, and with its forefinger drew a line of light. 

" Then the man understood that a great flood was to come 
and rise to that height, and he asked if it was to be so, and 
soon? 

"And the hand, as in a great hurry or distress, signified 
that it would come at once, and so vanished. The man made 
a great alarm, and all who believed in him at once removed 
their goods and families to places of safety. And when the 
flood came, it was such as never was seen before, and it was 
said that no man had ever done so much good, or saved so 
many lives, as he of whom I write. (And in memory of this, 
there was carved on the spot where the hand had drawn the 
line an image of it with an inscription, stating that in the year 
1433, on the 4th of December, the water of the Arno had 
risen to that height, which stone may be there seen to this 
day.)" 

The second legend is as follows, and as literally 
translated. 

Lo Spirito dell' Arno. 

" This spirit appears as a \^hite hand, which makes a sign to 
those who are in danger {Che vanno incontro qualche pericolo). 

"This hand will, when any one is a true believer in such 
spirits, place itself on him, and push him back from danger. 
And if the man in fright jumps backwards, and so falls into 
the water, the hand will hold him up and draw him ashore, 
or, if he be senseless, will bear him to the Via dei Neri and 
Piazza di San Remigio, where the renaioli mostly live, and 
there you can see the hand carved on a stone.^ 

"And that same hand beats at the doors of those renaioli^ 
and a voice calls out and bids them rise and haste when any 
one of them or theirs is in danger, and then they see the hand 
go before as guide, making signs. However, they do not see 
it as a hand alone, but as a person.^ 

1 The renajoliy as is elsewhere mentioned, are men who dig sand out of 
the bed of the Arno. They would be naturally the proteges of the spirit 
of the river. 

2 This is obscure. Perhaps on such occasions the spirit, as in the 
carving on the Ponte Vecchio, appears at full length. The hand is only 
seen and the voice heard by the renaioli^ which renders the motto by 
Tickell strangely appropriate. 

II B 



1 8 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

"And it often happens that when there is dire need of great 
haste, the renaioli find themselves borne in a moment to the 
Arno, they know not how. And it is by the virtue of that 
spirit they find themselves at the Arno in time to save the 
sufferer — senza avere neppure camminato — without having 
walked." 

That the Wegweiser or indicator of a notice should 
be a hand is very natural, even as we see it commonly 
put on posts at cross-roads. But that it was anciently 
identified with a local spirit is very evident from the fact 
that on the Ponte Vecchio there is on one side a sculp- 
tured stone of the fourteenth century commemorating 
the rehabiHtation of the bridge, to which the hand 
points ; while on the other there is one of the same kind, 
on which there is not only a hand, but with it the entire 
figure of a youth, who is referred to in the text. It is 
true that a boy is not a girl, but it might pass for one 
with the populace, who cannot read Latin nor Gothic 
lettering. The very significant reference to the boy in 
connection with the statement in reference to the inunda- 
tion indicates, in connection with this legend, that the 
boy was a warning spirit ; for in sober fact, if there be 
not a mysterious (though then commonly understood) 
allusion to a spirit or fairy of the stream in the statuette, 
there can be no meaning in the reference at all. 

The Gothic inscription referred to is original and 
perfect, but the boy is a restoration or copy, and has 
been inserted. The inscription in modern letters is as 
follows : — 

ANNO MILLENO TER CENTU j TER QUOQUE DE ENO ET 
TRIBUS ADJUNCTIS IN QUARTA LUCE NOVEMBRIS TURBINE 
LIMPHARUM MULTARUM CORRUIT HIC PONS POSTEA MILLENIS 
TER CENTUM QUEM QUE NOVERIS PULCHRIOR ORNATUS FAS 
FUIT ET RENOVATUS, HIC PUER OSTENDIT BREVITER QUE FCA 
FUERIT. 

It is remarkable that while the spirit of the stream 



THE SPIRIT OF THE ARNO 19 

in Tuscan legend is loving and benevolent, the Kelpie 
and Eigir of Celtic or Danish origin in Great Britain 
is a gloomy and destructive fiend; nor are the Lurlei 
nymph and Necke of Germany and Sweden any kinder. 
The most eerie or uncanny form of this grim gobHn was 
found by my friend John Sampson in the strange Shelta 
language spoken by Celtic tinkers and similar wanderers. 
It was called Glox Sharog na Sroina^ the Red Man of 
the Boyne. This is a spirit who appears like a blood- 
red man with a winding-sheet round his head. Some- 
times he rises from the water thrice, then sinks, and 
each time calls the name of a certain man. At the third 
summons, the one called comes running, and, impelled by 
an irresistible influence, plunges into the water and is 
drowned. It is worth noting that this Shelta tongue 
has been fully proved to be the mysterious language of 
the bards and magicians, which was lost for a thousand 
years, and only very recently recovered. Even the 
legends in it partake of a marvellous character. 
To which Flaxius adds :' 

"Regarding the great inundations of this city, it is worth 
noting that a certain Florentine in the olden time remarked 
that it was a great pity that the Arno was not always extremely 
ill or even at death's door. And being asked why, he replied, 
' Because whenever it rises from its bed, it always does a great 
deal of mischief 

"And it is a proverb of a churlish man, that if the Arno 
were overflowing with broth he would not give a drop to one 
starving. Another in reference to the dryness of its bed, which 
is all stones in summer, says of idle work, 'Tis like seeking 
mushrooms in the Arno ' — E come cercar de funghi in Arno ; also 
E non Vempierebbe VArno — 'The Arno would not fill him,' 
which is the equivalent of E non fempierebbe questo mondo, 
€ queir altro. 

* ' ' This world and the next would never satisfy 
That man, nor all his feelings gratify.' 

" And finally — as all ye who visit Florence will pass over the 



20 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Ponte Vecchio — I pray ye, gentles, of your courtesy to pause 
and consider these inscriptions, and the image of the spirit 
of the stream, and the unearthly hand — giving therewith one 
kindly, grateful thought to Maddalena, who unearthed the 
tradition, and likewise one to him who wrote it down ! " 



THE RED PILLARS OF THE BAPTISTERY 

** And porphyry which in the earliest time 
Was the red flesh of Titans petrified, 
From which great Hermes made a mirror strange, 
Wherein men saw, as ye may see in pools, 
Dark shadowy shapes foretelling things to come." — C. G. L. 

*' Ferrentur quoque in festo Johannis Bapt. brandse et faces ardentes et 
fiunt ignes qui significant St. Johannem qui fuit lumen et lucerna ardens 
praecedens et prsecursor verse lucis." — Beleth, Summa de Divinis Officiis. 

All who have been in Florence, and owned a Murray's 
Guide Book, have read therein that '^at each side of the 
eastern entrance of the Battistero di San Giovanni there 
is a shaft of red porphyry, presented by the Pisans in 
1 1 17." Other accounts st^te that the Florentines attached 
immense value to these columns, and that once when there 
was to be a grand division of plunder between Florence 
and Pisa, the people of the former city preferred to take 
them instead of a large sum of money or something which 
was far more valuable. And the Pisans parted from them 
most unwillingly, and to deprive them of value passed them 
through a fire. Which is all unintelligible nonsense, but 
which becomes clear when we read farther. 

I had spoken of this to Mr. W. De Morgan, the dis- 
tinguished scholar, artist, and discoverer in ceramics, 
when he informed me that he had found in the Cronaca 
Pisana of Gardo, a passage which clearly explains the 
whole. It is as follows : 

"In the year 1016 the Pisans brought the gates of wood 
which are in the Duomo, and a small column which is in the 
fagade or above the gate of the Duomo. There are also at the 



22 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

chief entrance two columns, about two fathoms each in length, 
of a reddish colour, and it is said that whoever sees them is 
sure that day not to be betrayed.^ And these two columns, 
which were so beautiful, had been so enchanted by the Saracens, 
that when a theft had been committed, the face of the thief 
could be seen reflected in them. And when they had scorched 
them they sent them to Florence, after which time the pillars 
lost their power. Whence came the saying, Fiorentini ciechi — 
the blind Florentines." 

Unto which was added, Pisanitraditoriy or ^'treacherous 
Pisans." Those pillars were, in fact, magic mirrors, which 
had acquired their value or power by certain ceremonies 
performed when they were first polished, and which were 
lost. The merely passing them through fire to ruin 
them is absurd ; a few days' work would restore their gloss 
even now. And so the Pisans spoiled them out of spite 
— never reflecting that the pillars would stand as a monu- 
ment of their shame and a proof of their treachery for 
a thousand years. Truly in this world it is far more 
honourable, and generally more profitable in the end, to 
be cheated than to cheat. 

I concluded, very naturally, that among my witch friends 
unto whom there were legends of sorcery in every lane, 
and graphic tales of ghosts at every corner of Florence, 
something regarding the Red Pillars of St. John would 
not be wanting. Nor was I disappointed, for inquiry 
promptly brought forth the following remarkable narra- 
tive by Maddalena, which I translated literally as I could 
with great trouble, as it was much confused. The old 
palace Vecchietti, subsequently called, if I am not mis- 
taken, after La Cavolaia, or in my MS. Delia Cavallaria, 
has disappeared since this chapter was written. 

^ Quel die non puo essere tradito. In a wide sense, not injured by any 
one or in any way. The same belief was attached to pictures or images of 
St. Christopher. 



THE RED PILLARS OF THE BAPTISTERY 23 

Le Colonne di San Giovanni. 

"These columns were called in ancient times Ze Colonne 
Magiche^ or Magic Pillars, because the Fate^ had enchanted 
them with a magic wand. 

" When a witch or fata died without having appointed a 
successor, then all the wicked witches and fate met in grand 
council at midnight, and their place of resort was in the under- 
ground vaults or Sotterrafiea of the Palazzo della Cavallaria. 
And they chose this place because those who dwelt therein 
had ever been very rich and of extremely evil fame. 

" In this palace were given grand festivals, which were fre- 
quented by the noblest and greatest of the aristocracy, and 
among these were many witches, wizards, and fate. When 
these lords and ladies entered the palace, (many) of them 
never came out again, for it was full of pitfalls. 

"Opposite this palace was a gardener's widow who sold 
many cabbages, whence she was called I^a Cavolaia. And 
this woman beheld many go in who never came forth again, 
but whenever she would speak of this to any one, there always 
rose before her a form which gazed at her, and then her voice 
failed her and she could not utter a word. And this form was 
the spirit of one of the dead masters in that palace, and he had 
been in life a capo stregone o'r arch-wizard. 

" One day a good fata was passing by this palace, when 
she heard sounds and songs, which caused her to stop as if 
enchanted. She stopped and said, 'Those are sounds of 
sorcery, and I would like to know what secret society this 
can be.' 2 So she went to La Cavolaia and asked her what 
she knew about the palace. 

" The Cavolaia related how it was visited by a great risto- 
grazia or numbers of the great folk, how there was music, 
song, dancing, counts, marquises, barons, dukes, and princes 
and pages, who entered the palace, but when she was about to 

^ Fate. A difficult word to translate. It means always a supernatural 
female being, a dignified fairy of life — or a peri^ and is incorrectly 
applied to fairies in general. Latin, fata. There are fate and sorcerers 
both good and bad, and in this story the different kinds are described as 
thwarting each other's projects. It appears from other sources that the 
progressive witch after death became a kind oifata, and the fata, though 
very long lived, also died, and then became a higher spirit, fot/etto or dia. 

^ In reference to the peculiar and marked intonation with which incanta- 
tions are repeated, Miss Lister has told me that when her nurse would 
teach her a spell, she was always taken to some place where no one could 
hear them. 



24 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

add — " who never came out again," there suddenly appeared 
before her a cat who gazed at her, and she could not speak a 
word. 

" Then this fafa understood that some one had there died 
who was a great wizard, who had not been able to leave his 
sorcery to anybody, nor bequeath his great wealth; and 
therefore he was driven in his rage and despair to continually 
sacrifice people who entered the palace, — and thus who- 
ever entered could never go forth again, because the palace 
was enchanted. Those who entered by one gate could only 
leave by the same, but the interior of the palace revolved or 
turned round, yet no one observed this, and when the deluded 
guest thought he was stepping through the door by which he 
had come into the street, he fell into an oubliette {trabocchettd)^ 
where he starved to death. 

" So when they, after the feast and music and dancing were 
at an end, sought to leave by the door at which they entered, 
they found themselves in an oubliette, and so remained in 
the cellars where the evil sorcerers met. 

"Then this good. fata went to the queen of \he fate and to 
the chief of the good sorcerers, and took counsel of them, and 
they decided to hold their meeting in that palace. 

"At midnight they went to the Cavolaia, and told her that 
by command of the first column of St. John — the magic 
wand of the queen of the fate — that she should inform the 
authorities {la giusttzia), so that such mischief should cease. 
And they added : 

" ' By command of the second column, which is the magic 
wand (bachetta del comando) of the chief sorcerer, we command 
thee to reveal the secrets of the palace, because these lords 
cannot endure what they suffer, and because their hour of 
death does not come unto them.' 

" So the next morning the Cavolaia remained long in bed, 
and did not go until a late hour into her shop, at which her 
visitors being astonished, asked her if she was ill. And she 
replied, 'No, not ill, but I slept. And being a woman, ye 
know that I, like all women, am very curious. 

" * Now for a long time I have seen this palace constantly 
illuminated, and heard from it sounds of entrancing music 
and dancing, and saw great lords and ladies enter, but many 
never came forth again, and marvelled what mystery could be 
in the palace, and if it were not enchanted. And noting the 
people who were before my shop, I saw that a certain cat 



THE RED PILLARS OF THE BAPTISTERY 25 

never left me, and it seemed as if the festivals did not please 
it, because at midnight it always left the palace, and it was the 
only being which did so, and it remained till morning. And 
if ye would prove this, come to-night when it is dark, and 
see for yourselves. And justice should have a hand in this, 
for of late many people have been missing in our Florence, 
and no one knows where they are gone. So I hope that to- 
night all will be discovered.' 

'' And as there were among the people who thus discussed the 
matter several guards (or police), the latter were all advised, 
and came that night to see the cat, but they could not approach 
the shop of the Cavolaia because the evil fa /a had strewn a 
powder to prevent their approach. So the guards and their 
officers disguised as great lords went to the entrance-gate and 
rang, but no one opened. Then came the fairy, who in the 
form of a cat showed them the way into the palace, and thus 
they arrested all whom they found there, forbidding any one 
to leave the place, looking closely to see if there were no pit- 
falls or oubhettes. And they found them full of fragments of 
human bodies, with others still warm and entire ; and so these 
sorcerers and murderers were arrested and condemned, and 
such of their prisoners as remained alive were saved, and those 
who were freed owed it to th^e good offices of the Cavolaia, for 
it was owing to her discovery that the guards arrived in time 
to save them. So they returned home, and took care ever 
after to fall into no more traps. 

"It was now thought that the troubles of this palace were 
over, and after a long time it was let out to poor people, 
and as it was of great size with many rooms, many families 
occupied it. The great carousers {viventi) who had lived there 
before the discovery had departed, but not the spirits, for 
these had remained there continually, and even unto this day ^ 
those who dwell therein hear strange sounds and see strange 
sights. 

" And after all this had taken place, all the good fairies and 
witches met in council in this palace called the Cavolaia, and 
they summoned the wizard who had gone forth in the form of 
a cat, and asked him why these people were murdered who 
had entered into the palace. And thereupon he told them that 
he had been the owner of the palace, which had been left him 
as a legacy by a friend, but with the palace had passed the gift 

1 1890. 



26 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

of witchcraft. Before this legacy he had been a poor man, 
and his rich friend while dying asked him 'To whom shall 
I leave //?' He having no suspicion that witchcraft was a 
part of the heritage said, 'Leave it to me.' Which having 
said, he heard a great noise, the dying man sank down into 
the earth, and the heir discovered that he was a wizard. 
There was a special condition attached to this inheritance 
of witchcraft, which was that every day he must take a human 
life, and whoever inherited from him was bound to do the 
same.i 

" On hearing this, the fairies and witches went to the columns 
of San Giovanni, which were their magic wands, which were to 
them then as resplendent and reflecting as glass. They struck 
one column three times, and it became like a mirror, and by 
what they saw therein they took counsel as to what they should 
do. And so in that glass there appeared to them the figures 
of men and women, witches or fairies, or even the devil, when 
they wished to speak to him, or else inscriptions or written 
answers. 

" So they went to these columns to know what should be done 
to the wizard, who was condemned by his fate to murder so 
many men, and who was unable to find any one who would 
take his witchcraft. He himself had intended to leave it to a 
female servant, one in his own palace, and thus he would be 
free to quit the palace. On the brightness of the column was 
inscribed the words — 

" ' Lasciate la dare a quella donna, 
Che verra nostra compagna. " 

'* ' Let him give it to her, and she 
Shall be one of our company.' 

" Now this servant who had lived in the palace in the service 
of those who had been condemned had left it. But one day 
the wizard appeared before her and said, 'Will you inherit 
from me ? ' and she answering ' Yes,' it was all-sufficient, and 
she at once became a witch, and that one of the evil kind who 
pass their nights in doing wrong to everybody ; but she being 
good, was averse to injuring any one. 

" And so on the Eve of the Feast of St. John she tied an 

' In another legend of the same palace, we are told that once in every 
generation, the son or daughter, with his or her wife or husband, must 
commit suicide. 



THE RED PILLARS OF THE BAPTISTERY 27 

image of the saint to her hat, and placed herself between the 
two columns and said : 

" ' O San Giovanni benigno ! 
Tu che davanti la tua chiesa, 
Tiene due colonne digne, 
Che di li si sa il ben e il male ! 
Sono due bachette magiche, 
Le fate e strege che qui commandono 
A queste colonne sono tutte buone, 
E sono le protetrici dei fanciulli 
E levano molte stregonerie, 
Molte sempre per molte persone, 
Ma a quello birbante non hanno potato levare 
Che a me I'ha lasciato 
Che a lui posse ritornare ! ' 

*' ' O benign Saint John ! 

Thou who hast before thy church 

Two columns worthy of honour, 

Whose good and evil power are so well known ! 

They are two magic wands, 

The fairies and the witches who command 

These columns are not of the evil kind ; 

For they protect the children of the town 

And turn aside all evil sorcery, 

And do for many people often good. 

Yet had no power to take from that vile wretch 

The evil heritage he left to me. 

I pray that it may be returned to him ! ' 

" And so the poor witch resisted bravely. When lo ! there 
came a mighty wind which bore her far away, till at last she 
found herself in a great tree and well freed from witchcraft. 

" But the wizard, who found himself in the same case as 
before, for revenge took away from the pillars all their power, 
so that since that day all their virtue has departed from 
them." 

This is indeed a wild tale of sorcery, such as is pre- 
served only among witches. But its antiquity is amply 
corroborated by correlative testimony. For it firstly cor- 
responds to the chronicle of Gardo in many particulars, 
and secondly it agrees with the popular behef that St. 
John himself was very strangely identified with sorcery, 
though not of the evil kind. There are witches good and 
bad, as among the Romans, and the two kinds are dis- 
tinctly defined in this story. It is not declared in the 



28 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

legend, but it is evident that the servant -girl heiress 
remained a witch, albeit one who had shaken off the evil 
part of her inheritance. 

Since the foregoing was written, I have obtained, in all, 
six legends, several of great length, all relating to the 
palazzo Vecchietti, or Cavolaia, and the origin of the 
Diavolino of Giovanni di Bologna. They form, as it 
were, a series or cychcs of stories, which, as they are 
told or chanted, might be conceived as a witch epic, for 
none of them have anything in common with ordinary 
fairy tales. In all of them, but especially in a very 
strange one, ''The Ghetto," of twenty-five MS. pages, 
there is to be found curious illustration of witch- 
psychology; that is, of the transmission of destiny in 
families, and the doctrine that the sins of the parents 
are visited on the children, but with the very im- 
portant qualification that the children receive with the 
fated destiny certain talents, or great wealth. I may 
here observe that these different Diavolino stories run 
into and greatly corroborate one another as regards 
antiquity. 

The Eve of St. John is a general festival for witches, 
but I infer it is only for those who are classed as good ; 
and it is very curious indeed that, for good purposes 
alone, a witch, as appears from other traditions, may be 
present at a baptism of an infant in a church of St. John, 
and that by doing this a portion of the blessing conferred 
on the infant is transferred to the spell of the witch. 
Thus, to unbewitch a child under spell of sorcery, it 
undergoes divers incantations, and is finally carried to a 
baptism, where a certain spell frees it from all danger. 
So in this, as in many other instances, the rites of the 
Church blend with the relics of older heathenism. 

The brilliancy of the columns indicates the attribute 
of light, peculiar to St. John. **The fires lighted on the 
Eve of this saint were believed to bestow healing power 



THE RED PILLARS OF THE BAPTISTERY 29 

and protection against sorcery and witchcraft," writes 
Friedrich. 

But there is more to prove the antiquity of the legend. 
When I read in it that the mirror exhibited either forms 
and images or writing, I at once understood, as the 
reader probably surmised, that figures appeared in the 
one and letters on the other. In reference to which I find 
the following very appropriate passage in that rare work, 
Der Verworffener Hexen und Zauber advocate Hamburg, 
1 70 1, by Peter Goldschmidt : 

"Yet there are different kinds of magic mirrors, as we may 
see by Paracelsus, Lib. 5, de Speculi Constitutione apud Buba- 
Iwn^ Caspar Schottius, and others. In some we can see the 
forms of thieves or enemies, in others that of animals, . . . while 
in another we behold not forms, but only words, advice, con- 
silia. To such mirrors Bodinus assigns that of Lenticus (261), 
translated by some as the stone of imagination ; and according 
to Bodinus it was an admirably polished stone, in which the 
heathen, after due prayers, beheld future events, and these 
polished idolatrous stones were the same which God-forgetting 
sinners use to-day as magic crj^stals and magic mirrors." 

The red columns probably came from Constantinople, 
as the Pisan chronicler states that they were charmed by 
the Saracens, and Goldschmidt goes on at once to say that 
a certain Peter Corsa, being in that city, consulted one of 
these polished stones or mirrors, and beheld in it, to his 
horror, that which would give ground for a divorce in 
any court. It would be strange if the porphyry pillars 
of St. John had been the mirrors consulted by Corsa. 
The conclusion of which is plain, that the tradition as 
told me in Florence must be very ancient in all its details, 
else whence did the narrator derive all these particulars 
which agree so very curiously with the beliefs expressed 
by old writers ? 

It was not till after I had written the above that I 
learned from that excellent work Walks in Florence and 



30 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

its Environs^ by Susan and Joanna Horner, that the 
Chavolaja was already in record on type as follows : 

"There is in the Baptistery of St. John a tomb with a 
Latin inscription in old Gothic characters in memory of 
Ranieri, Bishop of Florence, and the monument itself is only 
curious because it is the subject of a Florentine tradition. A 
woman, who had made a fortune by the sale of vegetables, and 
was known in Florentine dialect as the Cavolaja^ or cabbage- 
wife, bequeathed money to have the bells of Ogni Santi and of 
the Cathedral annually rung from November i to the last day of 
Carnival, for the benefit of her soul. Her memory was held 
in much respect by her townspeople, who believe that in some 
unaccountable manner her bones rest in the sarcophagus of 
Bishop Ranieri, whose tomb has therefore been called, ' La 
Tomba della Cavolaja.'" 

The magical palace of the story was standing till very 
recently in the Mercato Vecchio, and it was called the 
Palazzo Vecchi or Vecchietti. It would naturally enough 
be popularly connected with sorcery and diablerie, since 
on its corner was placed a marvellous bronze figure of a 
fiend, a devil, which is even now more copied and imitated 
by wood-carvers than any other work in Florence. Of 
all which we read as above : 

" The street which leads west from the market to the Strozzi 
Palace is called the Via Ferriecchi ( Old Iron Street\ and old iron 
is still exposed for sale in this quarter. A handsome palace at 
the corner of the Via Ferriecchi and the Via de' Vecchietti is 
popularly known as the ' Palazzo della Cavolaja ' — the Palace 
of the Cabbage-woman, and was probably the residence of 
the Cavolaja whose reputed tomb iis in the Baptistery. The 
inscription over some of the windows informs the passers-by 
that the original inhabitants were Vecchietti, Here Bernardo 
Vecchietti, a patron of art, received and entertained Giovanni 
da Bologna for two years, when he came an unknown artist 
from Boulogne in France. This generous hospitahty afforded 
him time to make himself known and to commence his artistic 
career in Florence. Giovanni da Bologna made the bronze 
figure of the devil at the corner of this house, where once 
stood a pulpit from which Piero Martire preached when he 



THE RED PILLARS OF THE BAPTISTERY 31 

was said to have exorcised the fiend, who galloped past in the 
shape of a black horse. The family of the Vecchietti are 
among the oldest in Florence, and are mentioned as such 
by Dante : 

'" E vidi quel de' Nerli, e quel del Vecchio 
Esser contenti alia pelle scoverta ; 
E le sue donne al fuso e al pennechio.' 

" * I saw De' Nerli and Del Vecchio, 
Contented even with uncovered skin, 
Their women with the distaff and the flax.' 

— Dante, Paradiso, xv. 115. 

The arms of the Vecchietti, five ermines of silver on 
a blue ground, are often seen in Florence. The people 
naturally believe they are virhite rats ; hence a saying of 
any one who was growing old that he was taking the 
arms. of the Rat family. What with hoar antiquity, rats, 
the devil in their corner, the horrible Mercato Vecchio 
all round them, and the mysterious cabbage-woman over 
the way, it is no wonder that the family fell into suspicion 
of sorcery and of having a house which turned round and 
round inside, an idea taken probably from some kind of 
** tumbletrap," by means of which they dropped tiresome 
visitors into the oubliette ; for there was such a vade in 
pace ! or go in peace ! in the Palazzo Vecchio. 

Another curious tradition relative to the red pillars 
which I picked up among fortune-tellers is as follows : 

Le Colonne di San Giovanni. 

*' In the columns of San Giovanni there is still an ancient 
chain or iron band of which it is said that when one is going 
to baptize an infant, one should stop before the pillars and 
say: 

" 'O catena tu 

Che tiene una virtu, 

E a tutti non e noto 

La tua gran virtu. 

Questo figlio vengo battezare 

E a te prima mi vengo a racommandar 

Che di questo figlio 

Tu non ti possa dimenticare.' 



32 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" ' O wondrous iron band, 
Who hast a virtue true, 
Gifted with mystic power. 
Although 'tis known to few ! 
I bring this child to you and say. 
That first of all to you I pray, 
And from this child, 
So meek and mild, 
Let not thy blessing pass away.' 

" Then take a small piece of coral, and for three days put it 
in croce or on and across the iron band, and at the end of the 
three days hang it on the neck of the child, and St. John will 
protect it from evil spirits and witches and disasters, and ever 
bring it good luck." 

Some one has driven a horse-shoe nail between the 
band and stone of the pillar at the right hand of the gate. 
This was done for luck, also to commemorate certain 
events. It was usual in ancient times to annually drive 
nails in the temple of the Etruscan goddess Nortia, and 
the peasantry of the Romagna Toscana still do so into 
doors with a special incantation. 

" Over which whole chapter," appends Flaxius, " I, shaking 
my head slowly and gravely, would fain a solemn commentary 
make. When the great Washington Irving published the 
second edition of his immortal Knickerbocker's History of New 
York, he observed as a wondrous instance of simple faith that 
divers of the descendants of the worthy Dutchmen described 
in his chronicle plumed themselves greatly on the fact that 
their ancestors had been mentioned therein, regarding them- 
selves as being thereby inscribed in a kind of Libro (VOro, and 
so to speak ennobled. Which was indeed only a subtle satire, 
since of these same descendants many were so irate that they 
would not allow the book to be brought into their houses; 
I having known of a family who held to this within a few 
years. 

" Even as it befell that a great authority, whom many term 
the King of the Folk-lorists, having called this our author " The 
Duke of Dark Corners," " An Encyclopaedia of the Out-of-the- 
way," a man who knew everything ;2^/ worth knowing, and "more 
Dutchy as de Dutches demselfs," found just one person in all 
Europe who regarded this in child-like faith as a compliment 



THE RED PILLARS OF THE BAPTISTERY 33 

— this man being the man himself who was thus described — 
the result being, to judge from the foregoing chapter — and 
alas ! too many more like unto it ! — a grateful determination to 
merit the eulogium, as he supposed it to be, and to dig even 
more deeply into the dust-heaps and rubbish-rooms of antiquity 
and humanity. Ou diable va la vanite se nicher I There is a 
French author who has enumerated strange instances of criminals 
who attached the idea of honour to what few would consider a 
matter of pride — but they knew that the world thought differ- 
ently. This writer — O sancta simplicitas I — knows nothing but 
work ; and I really believe that when he reads these remarks 
of mine he will not understand one word thereof ! 

"Columns — magic mirrors — horse-shoes, and the Street of 
Old Iron shops ! Let us drink ! " 



II 



STORIES OF FIESOLE 

THE DENS OF THE FAIRIES — PIOVANO ARLOTTO AND 
HIS BOY — LA BELLA BIONDINA 

" She came in her beauty bright as day 
To where in his sleep her true love lay ; 
She held in her small and light bright hand 
A plaything, a brilliant moon-gold band ; 
She wound it about her hair and his own, 
Still singing the while, ' We two are one I ' 
All round them the world lay poor and dim, 
Aloft in her glory she rose with him ; 
They stood in a garden fair and bright : 
The angels do call it Land of Light." 

— La Motte Fouque. 

Augustus — nomen et omen — J. C. Hare has the follow- 
ing in his account of Fiesole in The Cities of Central 
Italy : 

" The most important remains of the Etruscan fortifications 
are on the northern brow of the hill, where they rise to a 
height of from twenty or thirty feet. Behind the cathedral, in 
a garden, are some remains of the Roma?i (not Etruscan) 
Theatre. There is not much to see, but it is a charming spot, 
half buried in flowers. Some of the outer wall and of the 
seats are visible. Some vaults beneath, of opus incertum^ are 
called by the Fiesolani *Le Buche delle Fate,' or Dens of 
the Fairies. 

" In the Borgo Unto is a curious fountain in a subterranean 
passage approached by a Gothic archway. It is called Fonte 
Sottera, and its pure waters supply the whole neighbourhood." 

As I conjectured, there must be a legend relative to 
such a place, and Maddalena, having made a special 
pilgrimage to Fiesole, soon obtained it, and gave it to 
me in these words, unto which I have nothing added. 



STORIES OF FIESOLB 35 

neither have I minished, but given all in truth' as it was 
writ. But I may remark in passing, that my collectress, 
regarding this as a specially holy, or unholy, pilgrimage 
to a great shrine of witchcraft, made great research, and 
would appear to have encountered either a small guide- 
book or a large guide, to judge from the erudition and 
style displayed in the report. 

Le Buche delle Fate. 

" These Dens of the fairies are in Fiesole, and are called the 
Amphitheatre or the Roman Theatre. Behind the Cathedral 
there is a road going downwards {sendendo)^ at the bottoni of 
which is found to the right the remains of the gigantic Etrus- 
can walls. 

" Returning across the open place to the left, we come to the 
Via delle Cannelle, and in the first farm, also to the left, there 
is the so-called Roman Theatre. But the people call it Le 
Buche delle Fate, or Fairies' Dens. 

" In this farm {podere), where these dens are situated, there 
was at first an Etruscan settlement ; it was said to have been a 
fortress, and when ruined by /wars, its remains were, little by 
little, covered up, till it all formed a hill. And when this was 
dug away in modern times, they discovered first of all the 
remains of walls, and then three arches, and finally a fountain. 
And this was called the House of the Fairies. The basin or 
fountain was then full of fish, and these fish were all people 
who had been enchanted into that form {fatate). 

" The fairy house was then a splendid palace, and there the 
fairies kept a public school for boys and girls, and this was 
called the Squola delle Signore, or the Ladies' School, and the 
pupils were so kindly treated that they rejoiced to go there, and 
grieved when it was time to go home. The parents were, of 
course, much pleased at this, and were astonished to find that 
the pupils were all equal {ifi proficiency), and that there was 
not one who was not glad to go to the Ladies' School. 

" For the fairies taught the children different kinds of work, 
which really enchanted them,^ and as they learned all this 
easily, and loved the work, the result was that many became 
distinguished and successful. 

^ " Queste insegnavano alle bimbi a fare di lavori da rimanere inchantati." 



36 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" Now let us leave for a while the fairies and their work, and 
come to the story : — There was a young lady of noble and 
wealthy family, who had wedded a l^e/ signoi-e of equal con- 
dition, and for a time they were deeply devoted. But as often 
befell then, and happens even now, the very greatness and anti- 
quity of his family made the lord more anxious to continue it, 
and as this did not come to pass, he became cold to his wife, 
and then finally cruel. Now this desire to have an heir became 
in him a single thought, or constant suffering, or' lunacy, and as 
it all turned on his wife, it ended by his wishing her dead, that 
he might marry another in her place. 

"The poor lady had always been very pious and good to 
the poor, and when her husband began to abuse her, could 
do nothing but pray and weep, which, making her pale and 
sorrowful, angered him still more, as if it were another bar in 
the way. Till, finally, one day returning from the chase, and 
finding her in tears, he had her forthwith thrown into a dun- 
geon, ordering that she should receive only bread and water, 
and be so treated that she might soon die, as he had had 
enough of such a wife. 

" Then the lady, reflecting how innocent she was, and how 
strictly religious and benevolent her life had been, doubted 
the providence of God, and in despair called to the Evil One 
for aid ; nor was the appeal unheard, for it was followed by a 
distant peal of thunder, and then by louder and nearer crashes, 
with flashes of lightning and the clanking of chains, and then 
appeared a diavolo or evil spirit like a courtly, graceful man, 
clad in black, but surrounded by light and curlipg blue flames 
which played about his head like living hair. 

" Then the lady in terror repented that she had called him, 
but without delay he thus addressed her : 

"'•I was summoned by thy voice, 
And it made my heart rejoice, 
For I felt that in thy air 
Was my own spirit of despair. 
Thou hast called me from afar, 
E'en from beyond the farthest star, 
Driven by utter agony, 
What wouldst thou, woman, now from me ? ' 

Then the lady took courage and replied : 

'"All that I do ask of thee, 
Is that I may a mother be.' 



STORIES OF FIESOLE 37 

" And the spirit said : 

" ' A lovely maid thou soon wilt bear, 
With mind and heart beyond compare ; 
Thus all thy suffering and pain, 
Will be made up to thee again ; 
But I who aid, in consequence, 
Must also have my recompense ; 
For when due time shall pass away, 
In fifteen years, then, come what may, 
She shall be mine, without delay.' 

" But the lady was so possessed with the mad desire to have 
a child and to resume her place in her husband's heart, that 
she assented, seeing no other escape from death or way into 
a happy life, believing that as God had forsaken her, nothing 
could go worse with her. Then the demon, going to her 
husband disguised as a wise man, persuaded him that he had 
been mistaken as to his wife, for it appeared plainly by the 
planets that if she were taken into favour again she would 
soon become a mother. Then he, whose whole mind was 
bent on one thing, had her brought from the dungeon, begged 
her pardon, and she was soon as happy as ever. Nor did the 
demon fail to keep his word, for in due time she became the 
mother of a maid who grew up a girl of incredible beauty and 
marvellous mind. 

"This child, when old enough, was sent to the school of the 
Ladies, or fairies, who loved her so much, that they, knowing 
all things, began to consider whether some thing could not be 
done to save their pupil from the fate which awaited her. 

"Now the fairies, having observed that there was a great 
waste of straw in the country, invented the art of splitting it 
into lines, and braiding it into all kinds of hats and beautiful 
objects, which art, indeed, first came from Fiesole, where it is still 
most perfectly practised. And they taught this art to the little 
girl, and she made by their directions a square basket in which 
to carry her luncheon, and on each side there was a figure of a 
cross in red and black. 

" As the fated time of the fifteenth birthday drew near, the 
mother began to manifest constant anxiety and suffering, and 
was ever weeping, to the great discomfort of her husband. 
Then the fairies, who had resolved what to do, spoke thus to 
the young girl : 

" ' In a few days, my dear child, thy fifteenth birthday will 
come, and thou art destined to incur on it a terrible danger, 



38 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

and on that day thy mother will try to keep thee at home, 
hoping to have thee by her to the very last. But do thou, 
come what may, despite everything, make thy escape, and 
come here to school. But first of all, take this little silver 
basin, and when thy mother weeps, see that thou canst gather 
in it fifteen of her tears ; ^ nor shalt thou let thy mother know 
why, for if thou dost we cannot serve thee.' 

" And on the morning of her fifteenth birthday the parents 
of the maid tried to keep her at home ; but she poured the 
fifteen tears into a vial, and took her basket, but instead of 
luncheon put into it the vial, and so went her way. And 
arriving at the school, there stood the strange pale signore in 
black under one of the arches awaiting her ; but the fairies, 
seeing the maid, threw her into the fountain, bidding her, when 
the demon should attempt to seize her, to throw the tears in 
his face and say : 

" ' For the maiden's fifteen years 
Take her mother's fifteen tears ; 
For every year, 'tis plain to see, 
Is worth a year of agony.' 

" And when she had done and said this, the defeated devil 
sank in a rage into the ground, spraying and sputtering out 
sparks like a grand exhibition of fireworks, with such a roar of 
thunder as was heard half way to Rome. So the girl was free 
(' and all went well with all for evermore.') 

" And since that time Fiesole has been famous for the straw- 
work which was first taught by the fairies, as all the old people 
there know, and to this day, when rabbits are seen running out 
from the ruins, people say that they are the fa fe.'^ 

Of this tale I would first of all remark, that the 
worthy parents of Fiesole could not have been more 
astonished than I was when they found that their 
children, in consequence of being taught the minor 
industrial arts as a regular branch, became so fond of 
school that they were sorry to go home; and wonder 

^ An old Roman superstitious custom, still greatly in vogue among 
Catholics. Miss Read, in her Six Months in a Convent^ tells us that 
she was advised to "save up her tears." These little transferences remind 
one of the Chippeway who, when baptized, affably remarked to his heathen 
friends, *'Me been make fuss-rate good Christian, but me same ole dam 
Injun still." 



STORIES OF FIESOLE 39 

upon wonder! — observed that they seemed to be all 
equally clever. 

The reason of this amazement is as follows: — Many 
years ago, I formed the theory that the minor arts, such as 
modelling, wood-carving, embroidery, repousse, leather- 
work, basket-making, straw-braiding, and so on — there 
are about two hundred of them capable of being mastered 
by any amateur, all based on a simple system of design — 
should form a branch of education in public schools. To 
this end I worked hard for four years in America, until 
I had the satisfaction of seeing the system firmly estab- 
lished, not only in the public schools of Philadelphia and 
New York, but also, by collaborating with Mrs. Richard 
Jebb, succeeded in establishing the Home Arts and In- 
dustries Association, which has quietly but effectively 
produced such vast results in Great Britain, the original 
suggestion having been made by me, and the work, as 
regards Great Britain, having been fully organised with 
great ability by Mrs. Jebb. All of which is recorded in 
my work on Practical Education.^ 

Now I had never said a word of all this to Maddalena, — 
in fact, I should as soon have thought of communicating 
to her the systems of Mill, Darwin, or Herbert Spencer, 
or so much as I knew of them, or my reminiscences of 
Euchd and Hegel, which are much more- shadowy ; and 
therefore the reader may imagine my sensation at learn- 
ing that I had been thus anticipated in the dim and 
remote past. It was indeed a consolation to learn 
that it had been done by a constellation of such bright 
stars as the fairies, who probably inspired me to my 
work. 

Most remarkable of all in it was the observation which 
I had made, written out in detail and published, that 
there was developed in the pupils a love of school and 

1 Vide "Practical Education," by Charles Godfrey Leland. Whittaker 
and Co., 2 White Hart Street, London, E.C. 



40 LEGENDS OP FLORENCE 

marvellous uniformity of talent or ability ; which agreed 
exactly with my experience. 

There is something very pretty in the conception 
that this first industrial art school was conducted by fate 
in the arches of old Roman ruins in Fiesole, within a 
minute's walk of what Ariosto declares is a view more 
beautiful than any in Rome itself — or, more accurately, 
that if all the palaces in view were collected, Rome would 
not equal it. 

The lady-fairies of England, who now teach straw- 
braiding and other arts in the classes of the Home Arts 
and Industries, may be pleased to learn that they had 
such distinguished and benevolent predecessors, even 
as I am pleased to know that they show themselves so 
perfectly worthy to be classed with them. 

In addition to the foregoing I give some trifling 
anecdotes, which are, however, of interest as referring 
to Fiesole. 

There is not much in the following legend beyond a 
touch of vigorous character ; but such as it is, the people 
of Fiesole keep it in merry remembrance. It is taken 
from the Facezie di Piovano A r lotto y which book abounds 
in local and folk-loral anecdotes of Florence. 

" As everybody knows, Fiesole was one of the old cities of 
the old world, and there may still be seen many old things, 
such as the Cathedral and conventual buildings. And in 
these there dwelt the vicar, who, however good he might 
have been, was not famed for sense or renowned for wisdom. 
Before him appeared the parish priest Arlotto, cited by a 
certain woman, who declared that the Piovano had taken her 
son, a boy, as chierico or church attendant, and had had him 
for three years, and during all that time had never taught 
him anything but woman's work, videlicet : 

"To spread the table. 

" To clear the table. 

" To cook. 

" To wash clothes. 

" To scour dishes. 



STORIES OF FIESOLE 41 

" To sweep the floors. 

" To make the beds, and 

" To sew and mend garments, &c. 

"To which Piovano Arlotto strictly protested that men 
could do all these things better than women when they tried, 
and therefore it was all manly work; but to prove that the 
youth had really had a fine manly education, he called 
witnesses to prove that the chierico had well learned how 

" To carve at table. 

" To buy meat and other things for household use. 

" To curry and harness and otherwise manage horses. 

" To cut wood. 

" To dig in the garden. 

" To catch owls. 

" To manage cock-fights. 

" To drink the sacramental wine. 

" To steal grapes. 

" To set snares for hares. 

" To play at cards and dice. 

"To swear like a trooper, and 

" To run after the girls. 

" Now, strange as it may seem, the vicar, instead of regard- 
ing this as good culture for a, youth, thought it extremely evil, 
and not partaking of a theological character, and ill-beseeming 
a boy in training to become a clergyman. And considering 
himself insulted by such a defence, he gave Piovano a bitter 
scolding, and calling for the beadle, bade him put the culprit 
in prison. But Arlotto being a stout and strong priest, took 
the pair, one in each hand, and dragging them to the prison, 
thrust them in, one after the other, and locking the door, 
put the key in his pocket and went to find the bishop. 

" Now the bishop was a priest not exactly after the order of 
Melchizedek, but rather after that of Piovano Arlotto himself, 
that is, bonus socius, and what pleased one agreed with the 
other, or, as the saying is, dove va la nave pub vie il bergantino 
— where the ship can sail, there the skiff can row ; and having 
heard the tale, he roared with laughter, and to better the joke, 
they kept the vicar and the beadle locked up for eight days, 
when they let them out, and bade them go in peace." 

It v^as doubtless this same chierico who once went 
with Piovano to aid in giving the sacrament to a dying 
man who was blind of one eye. And when the man had 



42 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

passed away, the priest said, while returning, that the 
departed had died more easily than most men. " Yes," 
answered the youth, '^ he had only one eye to shut." 

Some time after I had written the foregoing, I obtained 
from Fiesole the following tale, also relative to the Buche 
delle Fate, of which there are doubtless others current : 



La Bella Biondina delle Buche delle Fate. 

" There was a great and wealthy signore, who had a son 
whom he tenderly loved and indulged in everything. Now 
the youth, wherever he had lived, had never been to Fiesole, 
but having heard or read much about it and its curious old 
remains, he persuaded his father to take him there. 

" And when they came to the ruins of the Roman amphi- 
theatre, known as the Dens of the Fairies, the youth, gazing 
through the middle arch, stood as if enchanted or petrified, 
making no reply or heeding aught, until his father, in great 
alarm, began to believe that his son was really bewitched. 
But while he was calling to him in alarm, the boy suddenly 
came to himself, but with a smile, and heaving a deep sigh 
as of satisfaction, like one who is well pleased. And he then 
exclaimed : 

" ' O father I do you see 
That beautiful girl's head, 
With beautiful blonde hair, 
Which flows like a golden river, 
And falls on her exquisite shoulders 
In a thousand rings of gold ? 
White and small are the hands, 
Truly the hands of a fairy ; 
With them she is braiding straw, 
And that is the fairies' work. 
See how from time to time 
Her eyes shoot brilliant glances, 
Flashes of sweet enchantment. 
Only look at her beauty ! 
O father ! I beg you bring me 
Every day to Fiesole, 
That I may look at the maiden, 
The girl with the golden hair.' 

" And hearing this, the father looked to the spot indicated 
by his son, but could see nothing whatever, and believed that 



STORIES OF FIESOLE 43 

some spell or delusion was on him. But being very indulgent 
and kind, and finding that the fancy or infatuation, or what- 
ever it was, remained, he not only brought him to Fiesole 
every day, but hired a villa near the place, thinking the craze 
would thus in time wear itself out. For that it was all a 
whim he was well persuaded, since he himself saw neither 
blonde nor brunette, nor could he hear a word from any 
fairy. 

" As for the youth, he rose every morning with the dawn, 
and hastened off to the Dens to talk with the beautiful fairy, 
at which his father laughed, but beginning to consider it more 
seriously, at last called in professors learned in mental affliction, 
to ascertain from them whether his son's mind was affected in 
any way. But they, after careful examination, declared that 
there was nothing the matter whatever, and that as regarded 
the special delusion of the beautiful blonde, it probably was 
founded on some fact or trick. 

"But the father, whose mind was now drawn seriously to 
the subject, was by no means contented with this decision, 
and went to consult a fattuchiera or sorceress, who lived in 
Florence in the Via Aretino; and she being interrogated, 
replied that the youth did not talk nonsense, that his words 
indicated perfectly good sensp, and that there was as certainly 
a girl with a wonderfully beautiful head of blonde hair with 
whom he spoke, but how it was, or what it all meant, was to 
her a mystery. 

" Then the signore heard of a very learned astrologer ^ or 
sorcerer who lived beyond the Porta alia Croce,^ in the 
country, and in a small house covered with ivy and different 
plants. And on knocking at the door, it was opened by a little 
old man with a very long grey beard, who bade the signore 
enter, and asked him what he wanted, to which the gentleman 
gave a full explanation. 

" Then the old man lay down with his face upon the ground, 
and remained for more than three hours in that position with- 
out moving or speaking. And when he rose he said : 

" ' Signore, ere you came to me, you had consulted with 
learned professors, and also with the witch in the Via Aretino, 
nor did you put any faith in what they said ; yet it was all true 
so far as they could see, but they did not know the whole 
mystery, and that I will explain. 

1 Strolagho. Not so much an astrologer as a wizard of any kind. 

2 A quarter in which witches even now abound. 



44 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" ' And, firstly, understand that your son is of sound mind, 
but that he is suffering for your sin. For you, too, once 
loved long ago, and from that came something which will 
cause you many tears. 

*' ' It is now long, long ago 

Since you were beloved by a maiden, 

A girl with fair blonde tresses, 

A glory of golden hair, 

A pupil of the fairies, 

A braider of straw at Fiesole, 

Who loved you beyond belief. 

Say dost thou remember ? 

By her you had a daughter, 

And then, as men do, you left her. 

She came to you and said : 

" Will you take heed to the child ? " 

And you refused her request. 

Say dost thou remember ? 

And she answered, " I soon shall die, 

And you on my dying day 

Will be wedded to another, 

And she will bear you a son. 

See here ! for I have woven 

A charm which I learned from the fairies ; 

Your hair with straw inplaited. 

Braided into a frame. 

In it your fate is woven. 

And bitter your fate will be ; 

For the son to be born of your wife 

Will fall in love with his sister, 

And love her even to death, 

And die for love of her beauty, 

Not knowing that she is his sister ; 

But my daughter indeed will know it, 

Yet dare not betray the secret. 

From mercy to her brother ; 

But soon the pair, tormented 

By love, and your sin and sorrow, 

Will pass away from earth 

Unto the brighter land, 

Where all may love for ever. 

Love in beauty and truth. 

Say, dost thou remember ? ' 

"Then the sign ore all at once recalled what had utterly 
passed away from his memory, and he returned to his home 
exhausted with affliction, nor could he eat or sleep. 

" And in the night he heard a very sweet voice singing to 
his son and to him : 



STORIES OF FIESOLE 45 

*' * AfFaciato, Alfonso, al tuo balcon, " 
Se vuoi sentire una bella canzon, 
Vai da tuo padre e dilli cosi, 
Che te la dia un bacio, tu devi parti, 
Tu devi parti, tu devi parti, 
Perche senza la tua 
Testa' hina bionda, tu devi mori ! 
Dalle un addio anche per me 
Benche fosse crudele versa di me.' 

*' * Oh, come to thy window, nor linger too long, 
Alfonso ! I'll sing thee a beautiful song ; 
And go to thy father, and say without fear 
That I send him a kiss. Thou must wander, my dear, 
Thou must leave this sad world, dear, and wouldst thou know why ? 
Without thy blonde darling thou surely wouldst die ; 
Yes, bid him farewell, dear, though true it may be 
That he was too cruel, too cruel to me.' 

" Then the signore went to his son's room, and found him 
dead, but with a smile on his face. And soon after, being all 
alone in the world, he too died." 

Though I have not translated it well, there is in the 
original of this song an indescribable blending of sad- 
ness, sweetness, and gaiety, such as I have never met 
with except in one of M^endelssohn's ''Songs without 
Words." The pair are departing for a happier world, 
and cannot be sad, though they feel the sadness of the 
past and the fearful sorrow and paradox of life. It may 
be observed that in the tale the mother and daughter 
speak as one, and that the mother speaks for both. 

Another tale of fair Fiesole shows it a holy old Etruscan 
spot, haunted by a spirit of the dawning time — which is 
indeed a most appropriate word, because the fairies of 
''the dayspring from on high" play an even more im- 
portant part in the early Tuscan mythology than in the 
Aryan Sanskrit legends of the gods, 

Genzio. 

" There lived in Fiesole a magician named Genzio, who was 
a man by day and a woman by night, but, as the former, he 
delighted to roam through rural scenes, cities and mountains, 
floods and fields especially where there were horses, in which 



46 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

he took great delight, as well as cattle of all kinds, and these 
he could depict as an artist with rare skill. And all the 
maids of Fiesole adored Genzio, because he had taken their 
photographs.^ 

"And one day, when he was buried in thought in his 
garden, he was roused from his reverie by a light touch, and 
looking up, saw a very beautiful blonde girl, who, evidently 
in great distress, begged permission to consult him. But he 
replied : 

" ' Daughter mine, it may not be 

That thou canst walk alone with me, 

Nor would thy mother deem it fit 

That thou with me i' the house shouldst sit : 

For I not only am a man, 

But more than that, a magian ; 

Girls should of such as 1 beware, 

Nor fall into a sorcerer's snare.' 

" As he said this, she had in her hand straw which she was 
braiding, and as Genzio spoke the last word, the straw turned 
into a beautiful vase of flowers, which gave forth an exquisite 
odour, which was perceptible afar off. And the maid was 
amazed, but she presently added : 

" 'Truly, I ne'er dreamed, good sir, 
That you were a conjurer : 
Yet, indeed, if one you be, 
'Tis the better far for me ; 
Therefore, I beg leave to come 
For a season to your home, 
And when you've heard what I would say, 
You will not bid me haste away ! ' 

** Then she went on to say to him : 

'"As a sorcerer thou must know 
What evil deeds men do below, 
And how the wicked Medici, 
Lords of yon city, woe is me ! 
And lords of all on every side. 
Abuse their power far and wide — 
A power which no law can stem : 
Great wrong must I endure from them ! ' 

"Then Genzio replied that she should return to him in 
secrecy and by night. And when she came, she was amazed 
at being received by a beautiful y^/«. But she told her tale, 

^ The ordinary Tuscan peasant has no idea that photography is not as 
ancient as the Tarquins. 



STORIES OF FIESOLB 47 

how the Medici had imprisoned {calceraio) her father, and 
threatened to put him to death unless she would surrender 
herself to their Lord Cosimo, and that this was the last night 
and limit of the time allowed her. 

"And Genzio having heard this replied, 'Rest in peace here, 
and I will provide for all' So she remained, but Genzio went to 
her castello and put on her very form ; her own mother would 
have thought he was her daughter, not a golden hair was 
missing. And at midnight there came the guards and ruffians 
{sgherri) of the Medici and took her to their master. And when 
she appeared before him, he gazed on her with admiration, 
which changed into great awe and dread at what he soon 
beheld. For from a maiden of resplendent beauty she changed 
to a very tall, stately, and dignified man of commanding pre- 
sence. He had a very heavy long black curling beard, with 
flowing black robes, and on his head was a circlet of gold, 
surmounted by a star of dazzling light. In a voice which 
inspired fear he said, pointing at the Grand Duke : 

" ' Thou evil, corrupt, and thrice-accursed prince ! how far 
wilt thou go in this career,^ to leave behind a name which will 
be for thee and thine, as a record of shame for ever ? Thou, 
who shouldst be the father and protector of thy servants, 
hast become their scourge and betrayer. Yet a little more, 
and the evil days will come' upon thee, and there will be 
wailing in thy palaces and remorse in thy heart, and over 
all Christendom thou wilt be called the Vile. Yet that thy 
punishment may be put off for a few days, I bid thee at once 
set free the father of this girl and her, and give them ample 
recompense for what they have suffered; but if this be not 
done, woe unto thee, since refusing, in that hour thou diest.' 

"Then Cosimo di Medici, struck by mortal fear and re- 
morse, did as Genzio bade him, and the maid was restored 
to peace and great prosperity." 

What is first of all very remarkable in this story is 
the name Genzio. I have shown in the Etruscan- 

^ " ' Quousque tandem abutere Catalina patientia nostra ? " Note that 
I translate the whole of this tale word for word as I received it, without 
any paint or varnish of my own ; and assuredly neither Maddalena nor her 
informant had ever read Cicero. " Perhaps," notes Flaxius " 'tis a case of 
heredity, and it may be that the blood of Cicero rolls in the veins of these 
thy Tuscan scribes ! And there were doubtless those among their ancestors 
who had listened with rapture to the great Latin orator." 



48 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Roman Legends that there is a Tuscan spirit of horses 
named Ganzio who Hves in stables, and who is almost 
beyond question the Latin Consus. And it is remarkable 
that the very first assertion made relative to Genzio is 
that he roams all over the country to see horses and 
cattle. 

In the magus who is a woman by night and a man 
by day, we have the superstition, still often heard about 
Rome, that there are magicians who are thus of two 
sexes, and that there are charms by which it can be 
effected — and I will give anon one of the latter. But 
there can be no doubt that this conception comes from 
two-headed Janus, and the Gnostic Templar Baphomet, 
with male and female heads, which became the Prudentia 
or Discretion of all Christian symbolism, and which may 
be found as such on the shrine of Orcagna in Or' San 
Michele, and also on the door of the Baptistery. 

Genzio — not Ganzio — also appears as an artist, and 
there is an invocation to him in this capacity. But as he 
is distinctly a sylvan deity or cousin to the fauns, he is 
only invoked by a paysagiste, a landscaper who desires 
to paint castles, valleys, rock and river, mountains and 
plains. Believing, however, that invocations and charms 
are generally skipped, I for space-sake skip this. Devout 
artists desiring to worship the god may obtain it by 
writing to me and gracefully paying postage. Maddalena, 
it is true, will supply to all applicants : 

" Many an ancient incantation 
For a moderate compensation," 

— but she, poor soul, must always plead in forma pauperis ^ 
witches, like poets, being ever poor. 

It is worth noting, that as Ganzio or Genzio is a god 
of horses, and also male and female, so Loki in the 
Northern mythology was once a mare and once a woman. 
But this is almost certainly mere casual coincidence. 



STORIES OF FIESOLE 49 

We may observe with reference to the epicene divinity, 
that the double-headed Baphomet is circled by a serpent, 
that the caducus of Mercury is wound about with two 
serpents, and that it was by separating two coupling 
serpents that Tiresias, as told by Ovid, became a woman, 
and then a man again, and finally a seer or magus 
Hke Genzio. And so the fragments of old myths and 
mysteries, which were confused and degraded by the 
multitude even in the earliest times, still survive in still 
more rusted forms deteriorate, or frayed and faded to 
the very rag-bag of tradition — whence such as I take 
them to be made over again, be it into paper or shoddy, 
which men call devil's dust; of which latter sort much 
of this witch-lore, I fear me, does in very truth consist. 

The incantation to Genzio, by means of which a witch 
may become male or female, is indeed curious, though not 
interesting to the general reader. It must be remembered 
that these witch and wizard documents are, to begin with, 
by no means intended to be published at all, and that (as 
was the case with all the sacerdotal sorcery of yore) the 
text is merely a note or memorandum to which much 
verbal instruction was attached. Which was specially 
the case with this, which I translate literally : 

To Become Man or Woman. 

In the morning, at the earliest dawn, 
I heard a voice, and it tormented me, 
Greatly tormented me, I knew not why. 

And so I rose one morning, and I went 
Unto my mother, and she said to me : 
" I know, my dear — it is thy heart which speaks : 
It is thy heart which speaks to thee of Love ! " 

Then in an instant I made up my mind 
To go unto the Mount of alia Croce, 
Hoping to find the spirit Genzio there. 



50 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

And when at last unto the Mount I came, 
And stood thereby, I knew not what to do. 
Nor how to summon Genzio, when I saw 
A Snail with shell, and thus to me it spoke : 
"Beautiful girl ! what is it thou seekest here? 

" I am the Snail of deepest mystery, 
Of augury and of prediction strange ; 
Genzio has sent me here to counsel thee." 



" Beautiful Snail," I answered, " let me know 
My destiny indeed, whate'er it be," 
And trembling I awaited its reply. 

It paused, as if it drew from Genzio 
A secret power, then thus to me replied : 
" Thou art both pale and ill, and I behold 
In thee the outward signs of wasting love : 

" A fearful passion is gnawing at thy heart, 

Thou hast in full the agony of love, 

Thou'rt wasting from^e sharp desire to love, 

" And now I will predict thy destiny. 
I bear this mystic cummin and the salt. 
Which scattering as I do pass along, 

" I weave meanwhile a garland of Christ's thorn ^ 
All for thy head, which has such mighty power 
That thou canst have no peace nor rest until 
Thou hast with speed extreme traversed the space 

"Between our worlds, and, coming from afar, 

Appearest as a Snail before my eyes. 

Or as an Earthworm — man or woman be it. 

As I do summon thee. Thou art compelled 

To come as one or other. If I bathe 

My hands in blood, thou'lt come i' the form of man, 

And if in milk, as woman thou'lt appear. 

^ Marrucha. Rham, or Christ's Thorn. 



STORIES OF FIESOLE 51 

" Even as I, poor Snail, do humbly crawl, 

Even so three nights and days thou too must creep 

Along the Way of the Mountain of the Cross : 

" And thou with thee meanwhile two cups must bear, 
One filled with milk and one with oxen's blood, 
And with them salt and cummin, and the while 
Must scatter them upon the ground, and say : 

" * Spirit of Genzio, to whom I call, 

Much canst thou tell, much canst thou do for me, 

And unto thee and in the form of Snail ; ^ 

" ' And when I would myself become a man, 
Thou'lt be compelled to give me of thy power, 
That I may be an Earthworm, ^ and from that 

" 'Assume the manly power, and when again 
I'd be a woman, I will be a Snail, 
And thus assume the being feminine.' " 

There is unquestionably in this mystical fragmentary 
incantation a great deal, not, of conjectural or haphazard 
coincidence with tradition, but of veritable tradition itself. 
The spirit who is of two sexes is invoked specially 
with regard to the earthworm and snail, and both these 
creatures are hermaphroditic, the male principle, for 
obvious reasons, being supposed to predominate in the 
former, and the female in the latter. ^ 
'^ Of this spell it may be truly said, multa latent quce 
non patent, and that it refers to what I have never seen 
described in print in any language. 

I have still another story of Fiesole, twelve mortal 
pages in length, but as it treats of nothing more than 

^ This is somewhat obscure. I conjecture that it refers to walking in a 
spiral form, or describing a helix during the incantation. 

^ Rombriga, rombrica. Pure Italian, lombrico. 

^ " Es ist die Muschel (this includes the snail) weil sie das Erzeugniss der 
allgebarenden Feuchtigkeit ist, das Sinnbild der weiblichen Geschlechts- 
theile, und ist der Aphrodite geheiligt." — Friedrich, Symbolik der Naiur. 
Common erotic slang in German abounds in proof of this. 



52 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

how three sisters were horribly bewitched, and then 
unbewitched by the help of the Virgin and priestly spells, 
slightly mixed with common witchcraft, I will not give it, 
since I invariably try, at least — however I may succeed — 
not to bore people with anything which would bore me. 

'"'' H(EC fabula docet. This fable teaches," subjoins Flaxius 
with the red pencil, "that as all cyder would be hock if it 
could, so all women would like to be men ; and witches, who 
are a higher variety of the same article, or hcec^ aspire to be 
both. As we may see it pleasingly illustrated in the fast 
damsels who put on male attire (saving the skirt) and indulge 
in all manner of New Womanly exercises, such as short hair, 
American cocktails, billiards, barring the spot for a hundred 
sovs., stock-gambling, pick-me-ups and lay-me-downs, and 
similar alcoholic or nervous soothers, with agitation and pub- 
licity of the most exhilarating and delightful kind ; all of which 
I behold with calm delight — regretting to observe, however, 
that in all cases it ends very much the same as it would have 
done had these enchantresses travelled by the old road ! " 

And as postscriptmn wvXo this, I add that the author 
has, since the above was written, collected, partly with 
the aid of Miss Lister, who foraged about Rome, much 
more very curious and strange snail -lore, which may 
creep slowly into print — as befits the subject — in a future 
edition, or another work ! 



A LEGEND OF THE SPEAKING STATUES 
OF THE VIA CERRETANI 



" For it was filled with sculptures rarest, 
Of forms most beautiful and strange. . . . 
And as she looked, still lovelier grew 
Those marble forms ; the sculptor sure 
Was a strong spirit, and the hue 
Of his iron mind did there endure. . . . 
And their lips moved, one seemed to speak . . . 
The statues gave a joyous scream." 

— Shelley, Marianne^ s Dream. 

"Truly it is a far greater miracle to make statues speak than mute 
people. . . . And that statues have spoken is narrated by Valerius Maximus, 
how that of Fortune in Rome in the Via Latina spoke twice to the Roman 
matrons, saying, ' Rightly have ye seen me, and rightly have ye dedica- 
ted me ! ' " — Compendio del VArte Essorcistica del R. P. F. Girolamo 
Menghi, a.d. 1582. 

" Quando Dii varias mundi partes, urbes, gedes, statuas proprie sortiri 
dicuntur, intellige essentiam potentiam illorum ubique in se ingentem, hoc 
aut illud potissimum illustrare, atque sicut lumen in se manens." — Jambli- 
CHUS de Mysteriis. 

I WOULD remark of the following tale that, while the 
story itself is given in minute detail just as I received 
it, the original was very baldly or imperfectly narrated, 
and that I have somewhat polished it as regards style. 
To the critic who would classify it I would say that 
'tis about three-fourths sheep to one-fourth goat, my 
part thereof being the latter, or hke the Indian whose 
forefathers consisted of three white men and one 
Chippeway. 

" There was once in Florence a young artist of great genius 
named Florio. He made marvellous works in bronze and 
marble, which were sold for high prices, and yet he was miser- 
ably poor. Still he wasted no money, and, far from having 

53 



54 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

any vices, he lived like a modest saint. But, as the saying is, 
* Whom God loveth, him He chasteneth,' also — 

' Chi da Dio e amato 
Da lui viene visitato,' 

' God comes to him whom He loves,' and this tale will show 
how He came to chasten Florio. 

" The secret of Florio's poverty was this, that while still an 
apprentice to a famous artist named Fabiano, the master, who 
was very shrewd, observing that the youth was quite ignorant of 
his own talent, made an agreement with him that, for a certain 
sum to be paid monthly, Florio should bind himself to work 
for Fabiano, give him all he made, and keep by oath the 
secret that he had made the things which he had been set 
to do. And for a long time he rejoiced at having made such 
a bargain. 

" But ere long it came to pass that for every hundred crowns 
which he paid Florio, Fabiano received a thousand — e, di piu, 
godeva il credito — and also got all the credit for work which 
was far beyond his own power to perform. 

" And Florio was too honest to break the contract which he 
had made as a boy with the crafty master who had rightly 
judged of what was in him. 

" And this is a thing which may be found in Florence at the 
present day, that // contadino uccise il cignale^ e il signore n^ebbe 
il credito^ — ' The peasant killed the boar, and his lord got the 
credit of it.' 

" ' Uno al monte 
E I'altro al pian ; 
Quel che e oggi 
Non e diman.' 

" * One mounts the hill in gladness, 
Another seeks the plain ; 
Yet gaiety or sadness 

And laughter sweet or sorrow 
May pass away to-morrow 
And ne'er return again.' 

" Yet all hidden things will come some day to light, and all 
the foxes meet some day at the furrier's. 

"Now there was a very learned and wise gentleman, and 
one experienced in magic, named Simone, and it befell one day 
that he and many more gentlemen with ladies met at the 
studio of Fabiano to examine a marvellous bronze statue 



SPEAKING STATUES QF THE VIA CERRETANI 55 

which the artist declared was the best which he had ever made, 
and those who had seen it declared it would be famous through 
all Italy from A to Z. Nor was Fabiano himself backwards in 
commending his own work. But the Signore Simone, who 
knew the truth, could not help pitying Florio, when he was 
standing aside neglected, while Fabiano accepted with thanks 
all the compliments ; and at last, seeing the young man turn 
pale and red, and then, unobserved as he thought, wipe away 
a tear of grief, he resolved to aid him. 

"'Yes,' remarked Fabiano, 'it is not for me to praise my 
own work, but it is a fact that the Grand Duke said to me 
yesterday that all that this statue wanted to be perfect was 
the gift of speech. But ah ! art is difficult, and the trouble 
which I had to make this work is beyond belief. If it could 
indeed speak, it would tell you cose miraculose meravigliose — 
marvel-wondrous things.' 

" ' Per Bacco ! ' cried Simone, ' thou say est that in a good 
place and time. Bel parlare che e alia largaf For I have 
learned in an old magic book an incantation which, when 
duly sung, will bring true speech to any statue's tongue, or to 
its lips if a tongue be wanting.' 

" ' Let us see the miracle, by all means,' exclaimed the Grand 
Duke. 

" ' Certainly,' cried all the ladies. 

" ' Carried by acclamation,' said all present. ' Let us hear 
the statue speak.' 

" Then Simone, approaching the statue, said very solemnly 
(in Florentine) : 

*" Ti prego, o statua, 
Di dimmi la verita, 
Dove tu siei nata, 
E tutto il patto, 
Come siei fatta ! ' 

'* * O statue, tell me now, in sooth, 
And let me have the very truth, 
When wert thou born, and what may be 
The contract which was signed for thee ? ' 

" Then the statue answered : 

" ' Da Florio io son fatto. 
Da Florio disegnato ; 
Florio ha 1' amaro, 
Fabian' il dolce e' I'danaro.' 



56 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

"'I was made by Florian, 
His the labour and the plan ; 
He had the bitter and the hard, 
While Fabian got the sweet reward.' 

"Then all the statues in the room raised their voices in 
chorus and sang : 

*' * Siamo tutti di Florio, 
A lui tutta la gloria ! ' 

** * 'Twas Florio made us, every one, 
To him the glory be alone ! ' 

" Then the Grand Duke, being indignant at such injustice, 
ordered an investigation by the Council. And when the 
whole truth came to light, it was decreed that the compact 
between Fabiano and Florio should be broken, and that the 
younger artist should be allowed to take for his own all the 
works in his master's studio. And thus Florio became 
prosperous and famous, while Fabiano sunk into merited 
contempt. 

"From which we may learn that 'He who pastures his 
sheep in another man's field, will some day lose all the flock,' 
and that 

" ' He who sleeps in the devil's bed, 
By the devil will be awakened.'" 

" Truly 'tis no unusual thing in life," adds our Flaxius, " to 
see some pitiful, thieving, lying, rascally snob of a Philistine steal 
the invention of another — be it a poem, a system of Political 
Economy, or one of Industrial Art Education, or a project 
in reforms, or a thousand other things, in which the thief 
could no more have made a beginning by himself, than he could 
have planned Creation. But in the end the statues always 
speak and proclaim the infamy of the plagiarist. Yea, for a 
brief season he may frisk around among his admiring friends 
in a small sphere, and be exalted as the original; but he is 
only like a mouse with an invisible twine round his neck, one 
end of which is held by Nemesis, till she tires of the game, 
and gives a jerk. The statues have spoken, and the statutes of 
the eternal law of retribution are fulfilled ! " 



THE SCULPTOR AND THE GODDESS VENUS: 
THE ORIGIN OF THE VENUS DI MED I CIS 

A LEGEND OF LA VIA LAMBERTESCA 



** J'ai chez moi une statue en marbre, a qui je voudrais donner la vie. 
On m'a dit, Maitre, que aviez ce don, et j'ai recours a votre science." — Le 
Magiden, par Alvhonse Esquiros, 1838. 

'* There too the Goddess loves in stone, and fills 
The air around with beauty ; we inhale 
The ambrosial aspect, which, beheld, instils 
Part of its immortality — the veil 
Of heaven is half undrawn ; within the pale 
We stand, and in that form and face behold 
What mind can make when Nature's self would fail ; 
And to the fond idolaters of old 
Envy the innate flash which such a soul could mould." 

^ — Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, xlix. 

" Long, long ago, when the spirits and foUetti of the old 
Roman time yet lived in the land, there was in Florence a 
young sculptor, who dwelt in the tower in La Via Lambertesca 
by Por San Maria, and he was gifted with great talent and 
marvellous beauty, so that people said he had been blessed 
by the fairies. 

** ' For those whom fairies never bless 
Are seldom famed for loveliness, 
And ever fall in dire distress.' 

" Now it came to pass that one day this young man, seeking 
for subjects of study in an old Roman temple at some distance 
from the city, found an exquisitely beautiful statue of a 
woman hidden away, which he admired as he had never had 
aught before. And that night he could not sleep for thinking 
of it ; it haunted him like a living thing, and the passion grew 
on him so, that he went out, and, stealing into the temple, 
stole away the statue. Truly it was very heavy, but the young 
man was as strong as an ox, and inspired with such a mad 



58 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

desire to possess it, that he went a long way bearing it. At 
last, however, he was obliged in distress, and almost in 
despair, to set it down, fearing that he must abandon it, when, 
to his amazement, the statue spoke and said : ' Do not be 
discouraged ; lift me again, and make a mighty effort. Fortune 
favours the bold and strengthens the strong ! ' 

"Then he applied himself with all his might to bear the 
beautiful burden, and found indeed either that his strength 
had increased, or that the image had grown lighter, for when 
he reached his home he carried it with great ease. And truly 
it was no great wonder that it weighed less, for it had now 
become a living woman, the most beautiful creature on earth, 
whom the sculptor both loved and worshipped, and who, 
remaining with him, made him perfectly happy. And she, 
inspiring him, so aided him in his work that he became the 
greatest sculptor living. 

" But one night there appeared to him in a dream a lady 
of magnificent, yea, of superhuman beauty, and she, looking 
sternly at him, said : 

" * I am the greatest of the goddesses, 

For I am Venus, queen of earth and heaven, — 
Venus, who rules all hearts ; yet thou hast dared 
To steal the fairest statue from my shrine, 
And thou shalt ever be the most accursed 
And most tormented of all men on earth, 
Wailing in life with all the pains of hell, 
Unless thou dost return it unto me, 
Unless thou bring'st that statue to its home.' 

"Then the goddess vanished, and the youth awaking in 
great terror, told his dream to his wife, and she replied : 

" ' Truly, I anticipated this ; but there is a way out of every 
wood, however dark, when one loves. Now go to sleep as 
soon as possible, and when the goddess reappears to thee, 
promise that thou wilt reproduce her in marble as beautiful 
as life, that with love and worship thou wilt make it, praying 
her to inspire the work.' 

"So he slept, and, as his wife had said, the goddess came 
again, and he thus addressed her : 

" * Fairest, sweetest of all deities ! 
Venus, queen of all the beautiful, 
Thou who ever lovest to forgive, 
Thou whose pleasure is to give reward ! 
Let me keep the statue which I stole ; 



THE SCULPTOR AND THE GODDESS VENUS 59 

Since my love has given to it life, 
And thou art the spirit of that love, 
Let me make another in its place, 
Let me place thy image in thy shrine, 
And if it be not as beautiful. 
Then will I return my wife to thee.' 

" Then the goddess, hearing this, smiled and vanished, and 
it seemed to the youth that all the air and sky seemed to glow 
and shine as with a rosy light — tuUa rilucente e coperta di rose. 

" And when he awoke, all the room was perfumed with roses 
like a garden — profumata di rose pareva un giardino. 

"Then he went to work with all his heart, guided by his 
memory of the goddess, being truly inspired with devotion ; 
and so he made the most marvellous statue in the world, 
which was placed in the temple, con gran cirimogna — with 
great ceremony. 

" From that time he became the greatest sculptor of his age, 
and the statue which he made may yet be seen in the Ufizzi 
of Florence, and it is called the Venus dei Medici." 

This tale is translated, with very trifling addition or 
variation, from the original, not more than six lines in all, 
which pleases me, since ,1 consider it one of the most 
beautiful which I have met with. But whether it is an 
antique is beyond knowledge, and I therefore class it 
as modern. Likewise, the connection or relationship of 
the same tale to the Venus di Medici is extremely sus- 
picious, for I ween that my informant's knowledge of 
statuary is not only limited but confused, and that the 
legend would have followed had I begun by asking for 
any other image of a goddess. However, all stories or 
traditions, to be respectable, should have their origin 
involved in mystery ! 

" Parbleu I " adds our Flaxius to this, " which meaneth by the 
blue expanse of heaven, or all the blue stockings which con- 
tain, like purses, pretty legs — it mattereth, meseems, not one 
red farthing whether the tale be as old as the father of the 
fathers of antiquity or not, since the main motive therein 
existed when the protot5^al angel of heaven wooed the first 
angeless. And it is this, that many and many a girl is respec- 



6o LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

tively a statue, or a wooden figure-head or Dutch doll, or a 
wax baby, marionette, or jumping Jenny (I care not how clever 
or lively), until the /ove of a more vigorous mind or stronger 
intellect inspires her, when she forthwith becomes, if not 
perfect, at least raised 

" * To her appointed measure of perfection.' 

"Then she, seeming the ideal of the charming unto her 
wooer, is made by him the model for his statue of Venus or 
the heroine of his novel, written or dreamed ; and so it comes 
that Art abounds in so many more marvellous maids than there 
are in Life. 

" ' And as 'twill ever be in days to come.' " 



THE SPELL OF BOCCACCIO, OR HOW THE 
GREAT WRITERS OF FLORENCE BECAME 
GENIUSES 

"This I hold, 
That Genius is true magic — never yet 
Did man speak well who was not well inspired 
By some strange sorcery far beyond himself." 

It may be observed that in all countries where magic or 
witchcraft has become deeply ingrained in the multitude, 
or is, so to speak, a real religion, there is always a con- 
viction that all intellectual talents or gifts come from it, 
and are caused or developed by spells, conjurations, and 
observances. This is not a matter of tradition ; it may be 
sporadic and spontaneous./ I have found it, from personal 
experience and observation, most advanced among the 
Red Indians of America, who, when the tricks of con- 
jurers are explained to them, regard them as miracles just 
the same, because it required miraculous genius to invent 
them. I once knew an old Passamaquoddy Indian named 
Gabriel. One day when I was present, and Gabriel was 
by my side in a hotel office, the clerk asked a question 
by telephone of another man a mile distant, and received 
an answer. 

*' How he do that ? " asked Gabriel, who had never seen 
nor heard of a telephone. 

I told him it was by a curious invention, to which he 
shrewdly replied, " Oh, me see — medaolin — it is magic." 
And all the explanation in the world, and showing him 
the contrivance and working of a telephone, would never 
have removed his belief that conjuring was at the bottom 



62 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

of it. Indeed, I am not sure that there was not for Gabriel 
something unearthly in a wheelbarrow, and that the devil 
did not impel locomotives and steamboats. I speak here 
seriously, for Gabriel held in good faith that I myself was 
deep in occult arts, as I always conversed with him as 
with a fellow-heathen, and could read his simple heart 
as perhaps no other white man could do. 

Therefore, I was not astonished to learn from witch 
authority that a great writer — Messer Gian Boccaccio^ — 
was one who had acquired his talents by ways that were 
dark and occult sorceries. And after some research 
among the learned in secret lore, there was unearthed 
for me the very spell which, it was believed, had been 
used by all the divine writers of Italy. It is called the 
Scongiurazione per la Penna e rinchiostro, or " Incanta- 
tation of the Pen and Ink," and is as follows : 

Scongiurazione Potente. 

A questo tavolino io mi siedo, 

Calmaio, penna carta io lo prendo, 

E lo spirito della Bellaria lo scongiuro ; 

Che il cielo fa rasserenare ; 

Che tutto cio che scrivo sia per me, 

Sia di buona fortuna ! 

Spirito della Bellaria che tanto bella siei ! 

Fammi la grazia da desto, 

O vienimi in sogno a farmi sapere 

Che tutto cio che scriverb, 

Mi sara sempre di buona fortuna ! 

Incantation. 

Here at this table I now seat myself, 

Having my inkstand, pen, and paper spread, 

To invoke the spirit of Bellaria ! 

The one who makes the heaven serene and fair, 

That all which I may write may ever be 

A source of happy fortune unto me ! 



THE SPELL OF BOCCACCIO 63 

Spirit of Bellaria, so beautiful, 
I pray thee come before me while awake, 
Or else in sleep, and tell me in my dreams 
That what I write will be most fortunate ! 

Simple and almost rude as this invocation seems, there 
is in it, when understood and explained, an exquisite 
and refined beauty of association and tradition. 

Bellaria is a spirit of whom I found traces several 
times, long ago, in popular Tuscan traditions. There 
seem indeed to be several spirits of the name, but they 
all correspond closely to the Etrusco-Roman group of 
Eos and the Nymphs of the Dawn. She is the same 
with Alpena^ a spirit of air, light, and flowers. Alpena 
is very evidently the old Roman-Etruscan Alpan, of 
whom Corssen says : " She creates the ornamental part 
of the world of plants, and brings it sweeping through 
the air in the train of Adonis; she is the Goddess of 
Spring." I could add to this much more, not only from 
writers on Etruscan subjects, but from traditions and 
tales gathered by me, but 'this is enough to show that 
Bellaria, "who makes the heaven serene and fair," is 
a most appropriate Muse for one who would write on 
beautiful subjects serenely and cheerfully. 

But there is a deeper association or tradition in this 
than might at first occur to the reader. Everywhere in 
popular Italian legends do we meet with a feeling or 
familiar knowledge of the fact that the word A ria, or air, 
is a synonym for a tune or song, and that the melody is 
the sustaining soul of poetry. In the tale of Orpheus, 
as given in another chapter,^ Eurydice is called AuradicCy 
and is to the poet evidently " the lost chord," the missing 
music which inspired his strain. I believe, indeed, that in 
these Tuscan traditions we have the only real explanation 
of the myth. 

Bellaria, as spirit of the air, is certainly an equivalent 

^ First series. 



64 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

of Eurydice. I have pointed out elsewhere that Bulwer 
makes an ancient Roman invoke the spirit of the air by 
the lost Eurydice. She is the female form, or music of 
the male poem. 

" Che faro senza Eurydice ?^^ exclaims the Orpheus of 
Gluck, meaning, -'What can I do without music?" — that 
is, metre and form. I daresay that Gluck had this idea 
when he composed what is perhaps his best song. These 
myths had deep meanings, and I beg the reader not to 
reject mine as merely speculative, but do me the grace 
to consider well all that I allege. 

The myth of Orpheus has never been understood, but 
this incantation, if ancient, casts much light upon it. 
And how it could be modern is beyond my knowledge, 
since most assuredly the woman from whom I got it 
neither made it nor did she know anything of mythology. 
The Italians call a melody an air because air is the 
medium of the flute, which inspired classic song. Orpheus 
is a poet who, wanting or losing music or motive^ goes 
ad inferos to recover it. Does the pomegranate seed 
eaten by Eurydice mean a check or stop in singing or in 
a melody? The pomegranate renders the voice rough, 
and the seed has the same effect as nuts, which make 
the voice harsh, as any one may find. When we think of 
the great importance attached to clear singing in ancient 
times, this seems at least to explain a great deal. 

The Greeks and Romans so perfected their prose into 
poetry, as do the Arabs, that they probably intoned or 
half sang their speeches, and even had a musical accom- 
paniment to them. The Koran is in this manner a poem, 
and an ItaHan peasant of a certain kind of culture is 
always as ready to sing a story as to tell it. 

The foregoing incantation is, however, only for a man. 
I obtained also another for a woman which is different. 
I am indebted for it to Miss Roma Lister, for whom it 
was written or recorded. 



THE SPELL OF BOCCACCIO 65 

SCONGIURAZIONE 

Per una scritrice ovver una donna che vorebbe scrivere, 

Sono donna che a tavolino siede 

Con penna, carta e con calamaio, 

Tu Bellaria che tante lettere 

E racconti scrivesti quanto eri 

Innamorata, dunque Bellaria, 

Quando a questo tavolino siedo 

A scrivere una lettera d'amore, 

O un racconto cio che voglio scrivere 

Per quanto bella sei, o ispirami 

Una bella lettera, un bel racconto 

E vieni anche la notte in sogno 

A farmi sapere cio che posso scrivere 

II giorno spirito della Bellaria 

A te mi raccomando che belle cose 

Tu mi possa sempre inspirare. 

Incantation 

To be pronounced by a lady who desires to become a writer. 

I am a woman sitting at a table, 

With pen and paper and my inkstand ready ; 

Do thou, O beautiful Bellaria, 

Who, when thou wert in love, so much didst write, 

I do conjure thee, for thy beauty's sake. 

That when I too a love-letter would write. 

Or poetry or tale, inspire in me 

To write such poems and to tell such tales. 

As may be worthy of thy worshipper ; 

And come to me, I pray, by night in dreams, 

And let me know what 'tis I best can write 

By day, sweet spirit of Bellaria ! 

Accept my homage and inspire my pen ! 

It is very likely that this latter is only a modification of 
the first incantation. I have always declared frankly that 
every suspicion may be entertained, and every allowance 
made, for the possibility of variation or deceit or error in 
these incantations. But that there is in all of them a 

II E 



66 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

nucleus, or centre, or dasts of old tradition, making all 
allowance for changes, is evident. 

It was not till some time after all the above was 
written that it occurred to me, to my astonishment, that 
Bellaria is the equivalent for, or precisely the same deity 
as, the Etruscan Alpan^ who, like the Lases, her sisters, 
is represented as holding a stylus or pen. There can be 
no question as to this, the inference being, either that we 
have here a most extraordinary instance of tradition well 
preserved, or a marvellous chance coincidence. That is 
to say, distinctly, in the old Etruscan pictures Bellaria or 
Alpan is represented as holding a pen, and that in the 
Italian incantation to bless the pen Bellaria is invoked. 

There is another spell addressed to another spirit, 
which is even more curious than this. It belongs entirely 
to the secrets of witchcraft. When a man or woman 
wishes to acquire special skill in composing incantations 
or invocations to spirits, or to make spells in poetry, he 
or she must have recourse to a spirit named Zandolo. As 
the scongiurazione and details of the ceremonies used fill 
ten pages, I may be excused for not giving them here. 
Suffice it to say that " a fair garland of laurel and oak " 
must be offered, and that from the incantation it appears 
that Zandolo, like the Norse Vala, is buried in sleep, from 
which he is wakened, not by ^* Runic rhyme," but by 
Tuscan blank verse. 

" Grant me this, O great poet, 
And I will disturb thee no more ; 
I, who have called thee from afar, 
I will not again break 
The sleep of the eternals, 
I will leave thee to repose ! " 

The whole ends with the following verses : 

" Thou who dost take delight in woodland walks, 
In traversing the shady forest fair, 
The verdant fields and varied villages, 
Still making pleasant poems as you pass. 



THE SPELL OF BOCCACCIO 67 

Thou who inspirest in me such desire, 
Thou who awakenest in me such delight, 
To form new spells and incantations rare, 
Though in the spirit of the olden time, 
Songs of the fairy and the sorceress.^ 

When I would make a verse which will not come 
Into my head, and I am in despair 
Because success doth seem impossible, 
Then to Zandolo I address my prayer. 
The mighty lord of magic poetry ! " 

I have not been able to discover among the classic 
Graeco- Roman or Etruscan deities any name allied to 
that of Zandolo, though I am satisfied that it is ancient. 
Perhaps some of my readers may be more fortunate. 

Now, apropos of sundry of my omissions of original 
incantations, et cetera, and of the suggestion that my 
witches or I have made the most of our material — par- 
bleu ! — I would have ye all to know that I have written 
down in terrible Florentine ItaHan, of legends and in- 
cantations every whit as good as these, and which will 
probably never be published, far more than is contained 
in these two volumes. / 

^ ' ' Tutti i giorni a formar de' versi, 
Di strege, di stregoni e di fate." 



THE SIBYLS OF FLORENCE 

" Dies irse, dies ilia 
Solvet sseculum in favilla 
Teste David cum Sybilla." — Dies free. 

" Sibylla Cumana fuit tempore Tarquinii Prisci." — Kornemannus, 1614. 

" Sic videmus hominem aliquem subito in philosophiam, vel me dicum, 
vel oratorem egregium evadere, ex futuris autem praedicere quae ad reg- 
norum mutationes et saeculorum restitutiones pertinent, quemadmodum 
Sibylla Romanis." — Hen. Cornelius Agrippa de Occult. Philosophia, 
Liber primus, cap. Ix. 

Like the finding in the mud of Nineveh cyhnders of 
precious stone bearing the epigraphs of mighty monarchs 
in the dawn of time, or Magna Charta about to be cut 
up for a tailor's measure, or discovering a lady who was 
erewhile a petted princess teaching the piano in Pimlico, 
or imperial Caesar dead and turned to bricks, or the 
sword borne by a great general in a noble war, ground 
down into a cheese-knife (which I myself have seen), or 
folk-lore reduced to mere logarithmic tables of variants, 
is the frequent finding of old gods and great names in 
traditions of the people, brought down to the condition 
of dispensing small sorceries and sixpenny incantations — 
yea, the Sibyls themselves, the tremendous witnesses 
of the Awful Day, as the marvellous pavement of Siena 
bears testimony, the beings so stupendously revered that 
in early times they were regarded by both heathen and 
Christian as supremely inspired, dwelling in a poor hut in 
Florence and gaining a living by conjuring with the skull of 
an old Etruscan god and making cards mysteriously jump. 
This is what I indeed found, and, what is worth noting, 
it was all a voluntary offering. For one day meeting 

68 



THE SIBYLS OF FLORENCE 69 

Maddalena, she told me that she had heard from a friend, 
and would soon write out for me, a very curious story of 
what I understood her to say were the Sibbene, But 
when it finally came, after some delay, it being a recondite 
piece of lore not easily obtained, as given me in manu- 
script on February 15, 1893, it proved to be the following. 
The translation is literal. 

Le Due Sibille. 

" These two Sibyls lived in the ancient time in a hut {tugurio) 
in the Via del Ramerino ; ^ they practised the art of foretelling 
good or evil. They enjoyed a great reputation among the 
Florentines, although they inspired great terror. 

"They were known indeed to all as brave witches and 
enchanters, knowing both sides of fate. They went among 
the peasants, and by virtue of certain plants they knew whether 
evil witches had cast disaster on children or caused sickness, 
and these things they could prevent or cure. 

" And this was their manner of divination. When they would 
predict the coming of people, or any one wished to know of 
good or evil to come, they n^ade a flame burn on a small 
brazier. By means of many small cords, they could cover 
the whole room and ceiling with a black veil, so that the room 
seemed to be converted into a bier. And they had two skulls, 
and by withdrawing a black covering there was revealed an 
entire human skeleton. And the bluish flames {fiamme azzuro- 
gnole), as they rose and fell on all these things, cast an unearthly 
light — ne derivava urC effetto dei piu sinistri. 

"The witches took several packs of cards, cards called tarocco, 
on which were figures of goblins, dragons, and other monsters, 
and therewith formed a circle around the person who would 
fain know what fortune awaited him. 

" 'Turning, they looked at the place 
Whence the flame came, 

Rising and falling in light or dark blue flashes ; 
Each holding in her hand 
A small wand of shining black wood, 
On each of which a very little skull 
Served as the handle end.' 

^ Near Santa Croce, a favourite haunt of witches and fortune-tellers. I 
know one, as I write, who dwells in the Via Santa Croce, close by the church. 



70 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" Then they threw certain powders on the flame, and when 
this was done they sang : 

*• ' Quanti diavoli sono sotto la terra, 
Dove io cammino tutti li vengo 
A scongiurare in nome di Setlano (Setiano), 
Che del suo teschio per poma 
Alia mia bachetta me ne servo, 
Che tutti i diavoli dal' rinferno 
Si possono scatenare, e il romore 
Di tutte le sue catene si faccia sentire, 
E imprecazioni li sento mandare, 
Che da si lontano gli ho fatto scomodare. 
Tutte queste mie carte le faccio ballare, 
E quel due teschi li faccio saltare, 
In nome dello spirito Setlano ! 
Questa grazia mi vorrete fare ! 
Se questa grazia mi farete 
, Con quel velo nero lo sceletro 

Dello spirito l^igio lo coprirete, 
Che la in quel canto scoperto sta, 
Se questa grazia non mi fate 
II velo fate lo cascare, 
Da una parte, se questa grazia 
Che vi chiedo riescira cattiva, 
Per risposta fate cascare. 
II velo sopra alia persone 
Che qui aspetta.' 

Translation. 

** 'As many fiends as hide beneath the earth, 
So many do I conjure in the name 
Of great Setlano^ he whose skull I bear 
Upon the handle of my magic wand, 
Who all the devils can let loose from hell. 
And make the rattling of their chains be heard, 
And send forth dreadful curses on the world, 
And cause strange suffering to those afar : 
And now I make the cards dance by themselves. 
And now ye see the skulls do dance with them. 
Moved by the mighty name of great Setlano, 
Whom I invoke, and if he grant my wish, 
May the grey skeleton in yonder nook 
Be covered with the veil : if he refuse, 
Then may the covering from it fall away ; 
And if the favour you request of him 
Be not conceded, then for a reply 
May the black veil fall on the one who asks ! ' 

" Having said this, they took the powder which was in the 
brazier with the ashes, and cast it into a running stream, and 



THE SIBYLS OF FLORENCE 71 

threw after it over the shoulder a handful of coarse salt, and 

said : 

*' * Che tutto vada alia mal ora ! ' 

* ' ' May all of this go to evil ! ' " 

This is indeed very simple miracle-making — that is, a 
darkened room, a little spirits with salt in it casting 
uncanny blue light on all around, a black curtain, the 
working of which with cords is na'fvely explained, two 
light skulls of pasteboard, and a pack of cards, dancing 
obediently to horse-hairs or black silk threads. Yet it 
was with such cheap machinery that, even among the 
shrewd Greeks and clever Romans, the priests worked 
miracles, and so it all came down through the Dark and 
Middle Ages unto this our time, in which innocent ser- 
vant-girls, and sometimes their mistresses, are still deluded 
by such deceptive diddhng and escamoterie. But it is 
worth observing that the concluding casting the ashes and 
salt into a running stream, with a parting malediction, 
over the left shoulder, ancj walking away without once 
looking back, is of hoar Etrusco-Latin antiquity, and de- 
scribed by Virgil. 

Still more curious is the name Setlano^ which was also 
given to me as SetianOy and which a learned friend sug- 
gested was only that of Satan or Satano, which I very 
much doubted, because my informant, had such been the 
case, would most assuredly have written it Satano, SatdUy 
or Satanasso. But, on consulting her, she positively 
declared that it was not Satan at all, but the name of a 
spirit, and that in the Romagnola dialect, from which she 
took it, the name was Setlano. 

Sethlans was the ancient Etruscan Vulcan. The name 
is still known in the Romagna Toscana also as Setrano, 
as a spirit of fire. It may be, therefore, that in the 
earliest age it may possibly have had something in com- 
mon with the Semitic Satan. 

Since writing the foregoing remarks, it suddenly occurs 



72 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

to me that the Saxon King Harold — an I err not — was 
terribly frightened at Glastonbury Abbey by the sacred 
cloak or mantle of a great saint, which, when he ap- 
proached it, drew or flew back from him. Which thing 
was considered to be of such evil omen that when it spread 
abroad it did much to injure his cause. Oh, ye Roman 
priests who then had the upper hand, and who had the 
Pope and all the wisdom of the whole Church at your 
back, did ye know anything of the sacred properties of 
horse-hairs ? Truthful and authenticated investigations 
after the Reformation disclosed in Germany that ye had 
images of the Virgin which had two faces — like Janus — 
one serene, and one sad or angry. Now these images 
were neatly set in a tablet so as to resemble bas-reliefs, 
and they turned on a pivot. And when the collection 
taken up was scanty, the priest standing before the 
image, unseen by the congregation, turned the Virgin 
round, and lo ! when he went from it, there our Lady 
appeared in tears at the stinginess of the people. Then 
another collection was made, and if it was generous, 
round went the Madonna, and reappeared smihng. And 
at other times they had the Virgin made with hollow 
eye-sockets, into which they put grapes, which looked 
like eyeballs, and when the juice ran out the foolish 
people thought she wept. Truly the horse-hair was not 
far off from all this. Sancte Hanke Pancke, ora pro 
nobis ! 

These tricks are all minutely set forth by Praetorius, 
and also by the Abbe Constant in his novel Le S order 
de Meudon, of which Rabelais is the hero. I obtained 
the full account of the Sibyls from Maddalena, and sub- 
sequently found another old witch and fortune-teller, 
Isnown as Trina, living in Florence, who knew all the 
story, but did not remember the incantation, which she, 
however, declared that she could obtain for me. Trina 
was ^^a white witch," who said that she avoided the 



THE SIBYLS OF FLORENCE 73 

invocation of spirits, because they were, as the Scotch 
say, ^'kittle cattle to deal wi'," or dangerous, although 
she fully believed in them. She confined her sorcery 
chiefly to fortune-telling with cards and selling amulets. 
She is still Hving here in Florence. I should say that 
Miss Roma Lister interrogated Trina more closely and 
fully than I did on the subject of the Sibyls, and that the 
result was a full confirmation of the written tradition 
from Maddalena — truth being that to which we all did 
aim — as honestly as Wednesday doth come twixt Tues- 
day and the following of Thor; or, as Cartwright is 
quoted by my old master and friend, Washington Irving : 

" By Woden, God of Saxons, 
From whence comes Wensday, that is Wodensday, 
Truth is a thing that I will ever keep 
Unto thylke day in which I creep into 
My sepulchre ! " 



THE STORY OF SAN AN TON IN O AND 
THE BARBER 

THE FLYING CHILDREN AND THE DEVIL's DICTIONARY — THE 
BARBER AND THE BUMBLE-BEE — A LEGEND OF THE 
barber's shop in the piazza TRINITA, just OPPOSITE 
THE COLUMN OF COSIMO — WITH A CURIOUS DISQUISI- 
TION ON THE SUBJECT OF BEES AND BARBERS. 

"Come un barbiere, di qualita." — Le Mariage de Figaro. 

" Pian barbier, che I'acqua scotta ! " — Italian Proverb. 

" Not the least influential of those who were in immediate attendance 
on the Sultan was the barber. . . . And from the Sultan's point of 
view there was reason to be particularly careful in the selection of a man 
whose duties involved drawing a razor daily over the imperial throat." — 
Hassan the Barber, by H. N. Cellin. 

A BOOK of Florentine tales of the olden time would be 

almost incomplete if there were not in it a story of a 

barber, so prominent a character was he in those days. 

For not only was there more shaving and hair-dressing 

then than now, but it was much more the fashion in that 

gregarious age for men to go to the barber's to have it 

done, and there talk over the news, while some one 

touched the lute — always kept for waiting customers — 

and others listened to the barber himself, as he held 

forth on politics or scandal, like a true Figaro. Ever 

since the fabled days of King Midas, the barber was the 

type of talkativeness : he could not hold his tongue. 

It was probably for this reason that the blessed St. 

Antonino of Florence (1459), now buried in San Marco, 

selected a barber as the subject of a neat little miracle. 

It is recorded that one of his holy contemporaries once 

74 



STORY OF SAN ANTONINO AND THE BARBER 75 

said to a lady, ** Be not proud that the Lord after His 
resurrection first appeared to a woman ; He only did so 
that the news might be most rapidly made known ; " and 
it may be conjectured that this was the cause why St. 
Antonino miracled the tonsor, or for the same reason 
why the latter warmed a salve — that it might spread the 
sooner. 

As regards the exact spot, I am informed by an honest 
follettOy confirmed by the cast of Maddalena's cards and 
other corroborative testimony, that the barber's shop was 
in the Piazza Trinita, close by the Feroni, that being the 
centre of all the gossip in the town, just by the column 
where the fairies every evening discussed everybody. The 
great proof of which is that there has always been a 
barber's shop there since the earliest ages — in fact, I my- 
self used to go there in 1846, which was, I believe, during 
the Lombard occupation, or in the times of the Romans 
or Etruscans, or something of the sort — anyhow, it was 
before gas and railroads,* which is all the same thing. 
Therefore, reader, if you will trust your valued head to 
a mild shave or a gentle clip, and listen meanwhile to an 
artist of the true Figaro school, go there, and as you sit, 
remember that it was in that very building that the follow- 
ing marvel occurred. 

" San Antonino was full of charity for his neighbour. Now 
there was in his time a great famine in Florence, and he gave 
to the poor of his substance, so that he suffered for want of 
many needful things, but the Lord in return showed him how 
his offerings had been received. There was a barber named 
Maestro Pietro who shaved him, and one morning the barber 
told the saint that he had only three loaves, which would make 
a scant dinner for him and his, and how, withal, a poor man 
stood without crying for bread, with much more such information. 

" ' Give him a loaf,' said Antonino solemnly. The barber 
obeyed. There came yet another, and another ' poor,' and by 
the same command the two remaining loaves were transferred 
to the loafers. Master Pietro looked very ruefully indeed at 



76 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

the last loaf, for he had not a quattrino or farthing wherewith 
to bless himself or to buy another. 

"'And now, Pietro,' said the saint — he was only an arch- 
bishop then — very sweetly, 'spread the table and get ready, 
for I am going to lunch with you.' 

"'Alas! your holiness,' cried Pietro, 'wherewith shall I 
spread it, since I have given away the last scrap of food in 
the house ? ' 

" ' Never mind,' replied the blessed Antonino, ' spread away 
all the same, my son ; the Lord will provide.' 

" Then the barber, resolved to at least go through the motions, 
but with little hope, took a plate and went to the great chest 
which had served as a pantry in his happier days, and lifted 
the lid. When lo ! he found it full to the top with the whitest 
of bread, which, as the Life of the saint, printed in 1557, declares, 
was made by the Lord himself— /a;^^ candissimo da Dio pre- 
parato. No wonder that it adds : 

" ' O felice barbiere, che si trovo a si fatto convitto ! ' — Oh, 
happy barber, who found himself at such a banquet ! 

"Now it befell that this barber, having begun as aid in 
miracles, continued in the business. For, some time after, 
he complained to the Archbishop that during the night his 
children were lifted up in the air by some supernatural power, 
and carried from place to place. Then the Archbishop 
wrote a prayer on parchment, and asked the barber if he had 
no medical prescriptions ; to which the latter replied that he 
had an old manuscript in which were many excellent recipes 
for many things, as in a dictionary. 

" ' Let me see it,' said the saint gravely. It was brought, 
and he turned it over. 

" ' Imprimis — " how to cure the tertian fever " — optime — 
" against the plague " — very good — " toothache " — Ha ! ' he 
suddenly exclaimed, ' what is this at the end ? — " How to make 
the Thieves' Hand of Glory ! " — " How to summon the spirits 
Belial and Ashtaroth " — " How to walk invisible by the aid of 
Diana and Herodias " — " How to find treasure by the aid of 
Satan." A nice book thou hast here, Master Pietro ! No wonder 
that thy children are tossed about like balls by the devils ! ' 

" ' Oh, your holiness,' replied the frightened barber, ' I 
never took heed of the trash there at the end of the book, 
for I verily believed it was all nonsense.' 

" ' Nonsense indeed ! ' said the saint. ' Verily thou shalt see 
what kind of nonsense it is. Come with me ! ' 



STORY OF SAN ANTONINO AND THE BARBER 77 

" And taking the unholy manuscript, they went to the 
Convent of San Marco, where, before many witnesses, the 
saint burned the book. Now ere he begun, it was very clear 
and beautiful weather, but as the work touched the fire, there 
came a tremendous crash of thunder, a blinding flash of 
lightning, and then a furious gale, and a midnight sky with 
torrents of rain in an unearthly tempest. And this lasted, 
to the awe of all, while the book was burning, but as the last 
fragment was consumed, the storm as suddenly passed away, 
and all was as serene and fair as ever, while a beautiful rain- 
bow over-arched Florence like a celestial horse-shoe, promis- 
ing prosperity. In which perchance the first suggestion lay 
that a horse-shoe must needs bring luck, like a rainbow, 
because it is shaped like it — both, moreover, resembling two 
horns, which, as is well known, are a marvellous type of peace, 
plenty, fertility, and happiness. Apropos of which, I myself 
picked up a horse-shoe a few days ago, but as it was very near 
the Castello del Diavolo of Siena, I hae my doot that the 
thing is unco' uncannie. 

"It is pleasing to learn from the chronicle that the book 
being burned, all diaboHcal sorcery ceased, and the children 
were no longer transported from place to place." 

Which tale I have indeed touched up a little — how 
much the reader may ascertain by referring to any of the 
several Lives of this saint. 

Nov7, apropos of barbers and miracles, I have myself 
a small story to narrate, which, if not quite so wonder- 
ful, has at least the advantage of being literally true, all 
three of those who were present being still alive. It is 
as follows. But first I must premise that there is in 
my Pidgin-English Sing-Song (London, Kegan Paul 
& Co.) a poem by me which relates how a certain 
Chinese emperor was under his barber's hands to have 
his head shaved. Just at that instant a mosquito alighted 
on the imperial cranium, and the barber, with incredible 
skill and a sharp razor, cut off the insect's head at one 
sweep ! For which he was ennobled, and given the privi- 
lege of bearing a staff, which all Chinese barbers carry to 
this day. 



78 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

I was in the first barber's shop in the town of Hom- 
burg-on-the-Main in 1892, and my hair was being cut 
by an assistant, when this story occurred to me, and 
I was just beginning to narrate it in German to the 
tonsor, when all at once we were bothered by a bee 
who came buzzing round. The young man with his 
scissors made a clip at it, and that so adroitly that he 
decapitated the insect ! He picked up the pieces and 
showed me how neatly it had been done. Then I told him 
the Chinese story, but it made very Httle impression on 
him, he was so taken with his own skill as an execu- 
tioner. The master of the shop, who had more intelli- 
gence, was, however, very much struck by it. 

It may be that in ages to come, should my life as a 
saint ever be written, that captious critics may trace this 
anecdote back to a song of earlier times, which states 
that — 

' ' The great Tartar king on a festival day 

Gave a spread to his court and resolved to be gay, 
When just in the midst of their music and glee, 
Their mirth was upset by a bumble-y bee." 

Then the monarch in a rage offered a reward to him 
who should free the court from this pest ; and there was 
present a general of great valour, an unrivalled swords- 
man. 

" The veteran rushed sword in hand on the foe. 
And cut him in two with a desperate blow ; 
His Highness exclaimed, ' I'm delighted to see 
How neatly you settled that bumble-y bee ! " 

Nevertheless, I maintain that my story is true, even 
unto the minutest detail, and especially that I was just 
beginning to tell the tale of the Emperor when the bee 
was slain. 

And yet again it happened thus of yore : 

" Kunipert, king of the Lombards, was once in council at 
which he determined to slay a certain Ado and Grauso whom 
he mistrusted. 



STORY OF SAN ANTON IN O AND THE BARBER 79 

"And as they spoke, there came a fly which sat in the 
window. Then the king took a sharp knife and struck at the 
fly, but only cut away its forefoot. 

"And soon after Ado and Grauso met a man Hmping who 
had lost a foot, and he told them how the king had held council 
to slay them, therefore they guarded themselves against him. 
Then the king was reconciled with them. But many hold that 
this fly was an evil spirit.^ 

Certainly it was, and if I had only lived in Lombard 
times, my Homburg bee would have been another diabolus. 
To be sure flies are not bees, any more than fleas are 
lobsters, but there are about eleven thousand pages of 
folk-lore on the subject, in which flies, fleas, bees, chafers, 
mosquitos, chinches, beetles, and many other kinds of 
humbugs are mixed up in inextricable confusion, like those 
which came out of the dragon when St. George decapitated 
it. [N.B. — I claim to have discovered in the Icelandic that 
hum-bug means a nocturnal terror.] Enemies of the 
traditional theory will gladly observe that my story of the 
bee is not borrowed, but occurred sporadically from con- 
current causes, and that therefore, of course, it is not at 
all likely that my tales were ever translated by anybody. 

I believe that the spirit of good San Antonino still 
haunts the barber's shop opposite the column of the 
fairies in the Trinita, because I have observed that when 
sitting there of a warm afternoon, under the hands of 
the artist, undergoing my cHp or shampoo, I have always 
experienced a certain indescribably blessed and somnolent 
sensation, exactly like that of the holy repose so exqui- 
sitely described by Tauler, Madame Guyon, Bromley in the 
" Sabbath of Rest," MoHnos, and a vast number of other 
Quietists, the truth of whose doctrine is fully proved 
by the fact that they all send the reader to sleep, so 
undeniable is it that every tree is known by its fruit 
and every saint by his works. 

* Menzel, Christliche Symbolik, Book i. p. 295. 



8o LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

The works of San Antonino were not on a large scale. 
He was a saint for the people, and went about performing 
small family domestic marvels, such as fishing a bucket 
up out of the Arno for a little girl who had dropped it, 
and making bread appear in an empty box, a miracle 
known as hanki-panki in the saintly profession at present, 
and which is derived from two hieratic Gypsy- Hindi words 
implying substitution by legerdemain. I doubt not that 
he was not above showing devout people in a cheerful 
genial way how the holy coin or medal disappeared up 
his saintly sleeve, how the sacred pea vanished under 
the consecrated thimble, and in what manner the marvel- 
lous three cards illustrated the threefold mystery by 
shifting and changing into one another, so that even the 
shrewdest sharp amid the lookers-on could not tell which 
was the ^'spot." Did not St. Patrick do effectively the 
same when he exhibited the shamrock, which is the 
same as the three of clubs or ''peter," to illustrate the 
same subject ? 

The truth is, that Mother Church was not, with all her 
dignity, above amusing the little children in her fold, and 
that what I have said about thimblerig and three-card 
monte, which sounds so wicked as coming from me^ was 
carried out thousands of times, in very truth, in a thousand 
coarser, profaner, and in a more hankey-pan-theistic 
manner by the monks, than what / have here suggested. 
Ah well ! — what of it ? 'Tis all of the past, or passing 
fast away ; " Upharsin " is writ on the wall. 



A LEGEND OF THE VIA GELSUMINO, OR 
HOW THE CITY OF FLORENCE GOT 
ITS NAME 

"Dove collocheremo le f em mine in generale? 

Risposta. Via delle Serve Smarrite a Via dei Pizzicotti. 

Demanda. Per i fiorai, e giardinieri ? 

Risposta. Sul Prato, Via del Giardino, Via del Rosaio e Via del Gelsu- 
mino."— Z<? Strade di Firenze addatate alle Arte e Mestieri di suoi Abitanti, 
1886. 

The following is of no value as a local legend, but as 
it contains the outline of a quaint story, which may 
possibly be traditional, and which is certainly droll, I 
give it, premising that it is of that kind of irregular prose- 
poetry which is common ariiong Italians, and often seen 
in American newspapers, but which is little known in 
England. 

La Strega della Via del Gelsumino. 

" Oh, once there was a pretty girl, and very sad was she ; she 
wanted a lover, and none could she discover. A vine without 
a tree, or a bottle wanting wine, or a maid who for love doth 
pine, are all sorry sights to see ! 

" She went unto her aunt — ' My dear, what do you want ? ' — 
' Oh, if a witch you be, I pray by all above me, conjure up some 
man to love me — a life without a lover is a sorry sight to see ! ' 

*' ' My dear, yon steps just clamber into the upper chamber, 
and see what you'll behold ! Three cavaliers so fine, a-sitting 
o'er their wine, all in satin, furs, and gold. When we neither 
love nor drink, as I certainly do think, people soon seem 
growing old. 

" ' Pick out the one who pleases your peculiar caprices, and 
bear him to your bed j with a wish you shall be wed ; such a 

II ^^ F 



82 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

gallant del signor is of everything the flower ; you shall have 
\iva\par amour' What she asked soon gaily sped. 

" In the hall she soon appears, all among the cavaliers, and a 
love among them seeks. ' Oh, you're all such darling dears ! 
But this one takes my fancy, his eyes have such brilliancy, and 
he looks so lithe and dancy, so romancy with piquancy, and 
he has such rosy cheeks ! ' 

" Early in the morning rising, she beheld a sight surprising, 
for there upon the clothes, or blooming on the pillow, instead 
of her dear fellow, just — how very, very queer ! — of all things 
far or near, was a lovely blushing rose ! 

" ' Oh, my aunt, what shall I do ? My husband he is gone ; 
I've no other hope but you; I am in the world alone — all 
loveless and unknown. On such grief I had not reckoned.' — 
'Dearest niece, go wed the second; he may prove a better 
one. But keep the rose with care ; don't you see 'tis not full 
blown ! ' 

" She bounded like a filly to the chamber up above ; there 
she found a perfect dove, as fair as any lily. The maiden will- 
nilly, and with rapture almost silly, cried, 'I'll have you for 
my love ! ' 

"How soon the night was over, with the snow-white per- 
fumed lover, whom in her arms she bound ; yet in the morning 
waking, truly there was no mistaking ; sad to her as any willow, 
there upon the broad white pillow she a lovely lily found. 

" But there still remained a third. ' Bel Signor^ upon my 
word, now I come to consider, you're the best of all to tidder, 
and I take you for my lord ; the best comes last I see. You're 
a jessamine for beauty, I am sure that I will suit ye — be my 
Jemmy Jessamy ! ' 

" She had had abundant warning, but all experience scorning, 
she would still a husband win ; but what was her amazement 
when the light came through the casement, upon the following 
morning she beheld a jessamine ! 

" ' Oh, aunt, I'm broken-hearted, my loves are all departed 
— and, between me and you, what can I really do? I am 
ruined and beguiled ! ' The enchantress gaily smiled. ' The 
story is not finished, my power is undiminished; we will now try 
something new.' 

'"And the flowers } Behold the three.' — 'Well, give them 
all to me ; all is right, upon my word.' She bound them care- 
fully with a woollen scarlet cord, then pronounced an incanta- 
tion, to her niece's admiration. As she saw the conjuration, 



A LEGEND OF THE VIA GELSUMINO 83 

they were sprinkled with a shower of some mystical perfume, 
when all the three in bloom united in one flower. 

" To grow it then began into a gentleman, the finest ever 
seen ; his cheeks were like a rose, and, as you may suppose, his 
hands were lily-white, to the lady's great delight, and his breath 
like jessamine, while his garments all were green. 'Twas a 
most enchanting sight ! 

" And as the story warrants, they had a child named Florence^ 
a. fairy fair and witty, who founded this great city — who chose 
the Hly flower, and put it in the field in the middle of her 
shield, where you see it plain revealed to this hour." 

This was indeed only a ragged scrap of a prose fairy tale 
as I acquired it, but as it took my fancy I enlarged it to its 
present form. All there was in the original amounted to 
this, that there was a girl who had three lovers, who all in 
succession turned into three flowers which the witch-aunt 
combined into a lily — the giglio of Florence. It was evi- 
dently suggested by the three divisions of the lily, which 
resemble three separate flowers bound together. 



THE FAUN OF THE FOUNTAIN 

*' In every statue lies confined 
A spirit or a sentient mind, 
Since into all which human seems 
Some elf will slip as into dreams, 
Who may be made, at fitting hour, 
To speak when called by magic power. 
Therefore the Hebrew prophet taught 
Such forms by man should ne'er be wrought, 
Lest they by mystic sorcery 
To magic ends should conjured be. 
Thus 'twas forbid in dim ages 
Of yore, to worship images, 
But when they chatter, flirt, and sing — 
As girls — 'tis quite a different thing. " — C. G. L. 

I HAD conjectured that there must be a tradition con- 
nected with the Faun of the Fountain by the Ponte 
Vecchio, because its very appearance is such as to sug- 
gest a legend, but it was six years before I obtained the 
following : 

"As we cross the Ponte Vecchio and enter the Via Guic- 
ciardini, there is at the right hand a small piazza or open place, 
in which, against the wall, is a graceful fountain with a beautiful 
bronze figure. And this is the enchanted statue of a Faun 
(Fauno) who was of a kind oi folleiti or fairies who waited 
on Bacchus, the god of wine. They were often mischievous 
and frolicsome, much given to teasing men and kissing 
maidens, but not wicked ; they lived for the most part in the 
woods, but often came to the vineyards by night to steal 
grapes or girls, and for this they were sometimes punished 
by their master. 

" This image is over the running water, and he holds a cup 
in one hand and a bunch of grapes — grappolo — in the other. 
But it was in a diiferent position in ancient times, nor did the 
Faun then have the goblet or the grapes. 

"He was 2ifolletto or spirit, who for some offence had been 

84 



THE FAUN OF THE FOUNTAIN 85 

confined in the statue or turned into one. For of these 
ancient images some were made by men, and spirits entered 
into them or were put there to live, while others were spirits, 
or sometimes human beings, turned into stone or iron. And 
some could go in or out, like dogs from their kennels, while 
others were shut in, and only permitted to wander now and 
then, as at the full moon or on the Eve of St. John. 

" But this Faun was a folleto confinato in staiua^ or spirit 
strictly imprisoned in an image ; and what made his punish- 
ment worse, he suffered from continual thirst, and could not 
quench it, while he beheld the cool water all the while running 
at his feet. And his arms were then raised on high, as was his 
head, like those of a man suffering and imploring {alzate in 
attitudine molto soffrente e disperato). 

"One night there passed by the statue a jolly contadino 
with a waggon-load of grapes and a barrel of good old wine. 
It was a full moon, the streets were deserted — all was still — 
and it happened to be the time when the Faun could speak, 
as could all the spirits, and when everybody believed in them.^ 

"The contadino was a httle tipsy from too frequently 
tapping his barrel as he went along, and he was in the most 
benevolent and generous mood, feeling as if he would like 
to treat 'all the world and hi^ wife,' when he paused before 
the image. 

" Now truly, if the Faun was all the time in suffering from 
want of mere water running away at his feet, you may imagine 
what his agony of longing was when he saw the contadino 
with his load of grapes stop just before him, and draw off 
into a cup and drink a draught of good old wine. And his 
sufferings were so intolerable that with this the measure of 
his punishment was fulfilled, when he uttered from his very 
heart the following prayer : 

To Bacchus. 

*' ' vSpirit of Bacchus, I do conjure thee, 
Thou who a spirit art, my brother too ! 
Grant me the power well to honour thee ; 
Grant that I once again may drink to thee, 
And that the draught may fitly be in wine, 

^ E che tutti erano credenti negli spiriti. This is word for word from the 
original MS., and it is difficult to understand why this bit of information 
is here inserted. It would seem as if the improbability of statues speaking 
had suddenly struck the narrator, and she hastened to explain that this was 
what was believed in the old time. 



86 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Spirit of Bacchus, I do pray to thee ! 

Grant that this contadino may bestow 

On me a bunch of grapes ; give me the power 

To draw from them once more the wine of life, 

As we were wont to do in days of old.' 

"The contadino had paused before the fountain to vary 
his wine with a draught of cool water, when, looking at the Faun 
with uplifted arms and an expression as of one imploring and 
suffering on his face, he exclaimed : 

" ' Poor soul ! what dost thou want, or what wouldst thou 
have ? ' 

" The Faun replied : ' I suffer with thirst and hunger.' 

" ' Take this bunch of grapes,' answered the peasant, ' also 
my cup, with which thou mayest drink thy fill ! ' 

"Then the Faun took the cup and squeezed the grapes so 
that their juice filled the cup, and it became wine of the best, 
and he drank of it and laughed, and said : 

" ' Now I'm at peace, at last I am free ; 
Drink of the wine, and drink to me. 
Now I can fly wherever I will, 
Over meadow and valley, and river and hill, 
And hide in the grottoes shady and old, 
And bathe in the woods in the rivulet cold ; 
For I've tasted the sacred wine and am free, 
Thanks to Bacchus and thanks to thee ; 
Taste it thyself, and it shall be so 
That care and sorrow thou ne'er wilt know.' 

" Then the contadino drank from the cup, efufelicee benglieio 
pertutta la sua vita — he was happy and gay as long as he did live. 

" So it came to pass that Fauno changed his position, and 
now holds a cup in one hand and a bunch of grapes in the other. 

" Now if a girl will drink of the water from that old fountain 
in good faith, she will certainly have a lover within a month. 

" And to do this she must drink of the water at night, and 

then say : 

" ' Fauno, per quanto ai sofFerto, 
Ai trovato un contadino ; 
Che ti ha ben aiutato 
Ed io sofro, 
Perche non trovo 
Un amante. Ti scongiuro 
Di farmelo trovare 
Tempo un mese, 
Se questa grazia mi farai, 
La tua tazza di vino empire : 
Eviva, Bacco, lo diro ! ' 



THE FAUN OF THE FOUNTAIN 87 



Translation, 

" Faun, while thou didst sadly suffer, 
Still thou found'st some one to aid thee ! 
Even so I sadly suffer, 
For I cannot find a lover ; 
By my suffering I implore thee, 
Grant that ere a month has vanished 

[Here the petitioner drinks a glass ofwine^ 

I may find some one to love me ! 
If thou'lt do for me this favour, 
I with wine will fill thy chalice, 
And cry out in praise of Bacchus : 
Eviva, viva, viva Bacco ! ' 

" This water is also very good for restoring health to weak 
and nervous people ; it should for them be mixed with wine ; 
and to those who cannot visit the fountain it may be sent in 
bottles, and it will aid all who drink it in faith, and who de- 
voutly repeat the incantation. But those who do this without 
serious belief will only bring evil on themselves, or the very 
contrary of that for which they pray." 

I have, in commenting another tale, spoken of the ancient 
and very natural belief that' spirits dv^elt in statues, vs^hich 
still exists v^idely spread in the belief that certain holy 
images have great power to heal certain diseases — of 
which I have daily confirmation where I dwell in Florence. 
But what is worth noting in this tale is the connection of 
the Faun with the healing magic well, just as his fore- 
goers were identified with grives, nymphs, and fountains. 
Masius, in his Studies from Nature^ daintily describes 
why a living or running water, as in a spring, is so sweetly 
attractive, saying that " the fascinating transparency of the 
element " (which irresistibly suggests to us as in a glass 
something mysterious) — "the melodious rhythm of its 
bubbling flow — the gleaming green and blue upon its 
waves — do charm us in the silence of the night," — as 
does the running like a living thing, which comes we 

^ Naturstudien^ Leipzig, 1857. A pleasant book, of which there is an 
English version, I forget by whom. ^ 



cr/ 






88 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

know not whence to vanish in the unknown. And as 
Friedrich writes: ^'Of a truth water is a spiritual element, 
and speaks to us with soul's affinity. Spring, brook, and 
rivulet run ever on — an image of our restless, hastening 
life." Of which strange fascination, inducing men to sit 
by streams and fountains, he adduces several singular 
instances. 



THE LEGEND OF LA VILLA SALVIATI 
AND OF LA VIA CANACCI 



' ' She cut away no formless monster's head, 
But one whose gentleness did well accord 
With death as life . . . and for its tomb did choose 
-A garden-pot, wherein she laid it by." 

— Isabella, by John Keats. 

" Now lust of love hath lost all charm for him ; 
Let joys fly home to others if they will, 
Bid merriment and Cupid speed in haste 
Unto their goddess, whom he seeks no more ; 
Gloom and regret are recreation now, 
And from their sanctuary far above 
Virtue and Fame, her son, do call to him." 

— Musarion, by C. M. Wieland. 

*' Of all the devils jn hell that be, 

There is none like a woman's jealousy." 

— Abraham h Santa Clara. 

This story, as will be seen, does not properly belong to 
the Villa Salviati, but is told authentically of one of the 
family. But as it is attributed to that place by the 
people, I have let the title remain as I received it. I have 
not translated it word for word, because it required cor- 
rection ; neither have I inserted aught or added to it. 

La Villa Salviatl 

"Jacopo Salviati was a rich lord and a great admirer of 
beautiful women. 

" He lived in his villa in splendid style, and had every 
evening a reception and banquet, to which were invited all 
his friends, and all the most beautiful courtesans of Italy 
regarded his house as their home. The life there was all 
wine, music, laughter, games, dancing, flowers, and un- 



90 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

bounded liberty. It seemed as if the master had resolved 
there should be one place on earth without a shade of sorrow. 

"But the most beautiful tapestry has its sorry side; the 
higher the river rises in a freshet, the lower it sinks in a 
decline ; fruit and flowers are the fairest things on earth, yet 
they soonest decay and fade, and it needed no more than a 
severe attack of illness for the Signore Salviati to take an 
indescribable disgust, or to form a real and lasting repugnance 
for the life which he had led. His gallant friends and many 
beautiful women with wit and grace, and not without kindly 
feeling, came round him, but he had lost all sympathy for 
them, and his nature certainly changed ; for, getting better, he 
remained the same, and the first thing he did was to intimate 
to his friends that the ladies should all leave the house as 
soon as possible, which naturally greatly diminished the 
gaiety of the villa and the number of guests of all kinds. 
Fill the cup too full, and it will spill over on the satin, and 
then a man wishes he had never filled it at all. Hence it 
came about that in those wild days so many rich men became 
monks, and people could not understand why. They filled 
the cup too full. 

"As soon as he was able to endure a journey, the Signore 
Salviati went to the Toscana Romagna mountain country 
to visit a friend who had a castle somewhere about Forli or 
Rocca Casciano, hoping that the fresh air would do much J>er 
ristabilirsi ineglio in salute — to re-estabHsh his health, expecting 
also to be strengthened in mind by the society of true friends, 
who were not at all of the stamp or colour of those with whom 
he so long had filled his villa. 

" Nor was he disappointed, being received with sincere joy ; 
for, as his host said, 'Truly I have caught two pigeons with 
one pea this time ; for I have not only once more my dear old 
friend Salviati, but also a pleasant guest, which is a gift of God 
to me nowadays, in this lonely place. Thou art like the sun, 
who rejoices all men with his rays wherever he visits, so much 
so, that it is a pity that he himself never knows it.' 

"Then in intimate discourse the Signore Jacopo told his 
friend what a fife he had led, all riot and no quiet ; how he had 
fallen ill and become more sick in soul than in body to think 
of such sorry waste of talent and time, which now seemed to 
him as silly as children screaming up and down for diversion ; 
and, moreover, that he now felt, what he never did before, 
what a fool he had been, and made for himself an evil name. 



THE LEGEND OF LA VILLA SALVIATI 91 

" To which his friend replied with a kindly smile : 

*' ' What thou wert I too have been. 
What thou saw'st I too have seen, 
And in manner quite the same 
Unto me an illness came, 
Wherein, indeed, it seemed to me 
All life had been a malady. 
And sickness a recovery ; 
For as in strength my body fell. 
My mind seemed ever getting well. 
Till I regained a healthy sense 
With the great med'cine — Penitence ; 
Which being done, as thou wilt prove, 
I found me fit for noble love, 
And wedded one who, as my wife, 
Has purified and blessed my life.' 

"'Yes, my friend Jacopo,' he continued, 'I am married, 
and what with my wife and a Httle daughter and a beautiful 
young cousin named Veronica, I am perfectly content, and I 
can think of nothing to add to my happiness, unless, indeed, 
it were to keep thee among us, and have thee in our family 
circle.' 

"And saying this, he spoke prophetically, for when the 
Signore Salviati was introduced to the beautiful Veronica, it 
was like a glance of lightning ; and the thunderbolt went home 
to the heart all in an instant for both of them ; and no great 
wonder either, for they were called by those who told the tale 
in their time the most beautiful couple in all Florence, and 
that meant, indeed, in all Italy, for the Florentines or Tuscans 
were ever a handsome folk. So, as the proverb advises : 

" ' Ama chi t'ama ; 

Rispondi a chi ti chiama.' 

** ' Answer quick who calls to thee ; 
Let love to love an echo be.' 

" So one being willing and the other eager, they soon came 
to an understanding, since, of all things on earth, love is the 
one which least endures being hid. 

" ' Amor, e tosse e rogna, 
Celar non ti bisogna.' 

" ' Love or a cough or disease, I ween, 
Are soon made known or quickly seen.' 



92 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

"In fine, there was great love but little wooing, for they 
were very soon married, and lived in such a sea of delight and 
content that there was only one thing on earth which ever gave 
the Signore Jacopo an instant's sorrow, and that was when he 
reflected on the shameful life he had led, as would happen 
now and then, when he met some of his old companions and 
guests. Nor were the fair ladies whom he had once favoured, 
and now passed by, much pleased at the manner in which they 
had all been bundled out and sent packing from his villa, and 
one and all determined to play him an evil trick, whenever 
fortune should favour them. 

" It is ever the one who loves the most who is most deadly 
in jealousy ; for, as the proverb says : 

" * Ne Amor, ne Signoria, 
Non voglion compagnia.' 

" ' Neither Love nor Signorie 
Wish for rival company. ' 

" And the wife of the Signor Salviati was a northern Romag- 
nola, who have the name of being as desperately vindictive 
when wronged as they are devoted and strangely superstitious, 
for they worship old gods, and are heathen to this day in all 
things good or bad. And on the other hand, her husband 
quite forgot that a man who would go to such excess of 
debauchery as he had done, and then to the last step of 
penitence (of which the proverb bids us beware), and then 
again into a complete abyss of married bliss to the neglect 
of all the world without, could hardly fail to fall sooner or 
later into some new and absorbing passion ; so true is it that 
we should never blow the bladder till it bursts if we fear a 
noise. 

" Now the Signore Jacopo found one day among his treasures 
a carved ivory scatola or small casket of extraordinary beauty, 
with figures on it of loves and cupids, which had been given 
him by a beautiful cortegiana Veneziana in his sinful days, and 
instead of sending it back to her or giving it to the Church, he 
in a rage dashed it to the ground, and crushed it to pieces 
under his heel, though it was one for which the Pope himself 
would have been thankful. But when he had done this, he 
was not a little concerned to find that, as usual, there had been 
a mirror in the box on its bottom, and this too he had utterly 
destroyed. And this indeed troubled him not a little, for he 
had always been haunted by the saying : 



THE LEGEND OF LA VILLA SALVIATI 93 

" ' Should a mirror ever come 

By chance unknown into your home, 

Guard it as you would your wealth, 

'Twill shield your life and bless your health. 

But beware lest, when you take it 

In your hand, by chance you break it. 

'Tis a sign, and ever true, 

Some dire disaster waits on you.' 

"Now this mirror had come without his knowing it into 
his possession, and he found it had broken into thirteen 
pieces. 

" Now soon after this he was passing through the Via della 
Scala in Florence, when there came up a tremendous storm, 
with such rain and hail that it seemed as if all the witches 
were at work together ; and to avoid this he turned into the 
Via dei Canacci, which is a little street in which there was a 
small palace (pa/azzulo), under the gateway of which, or in the 
hall, he took refuge. 

" And while he stood there, there came down the stairs a 
young girl of dazzling beauty, who, seeing him, smiled and 
said : ' Signore Jacopo, I beg of you do not stand here, but 
come up and honour our house with your presence.' And 
so, after exchanging courteous compliments on both sides, he 
complied, and having entered the saloon and taken a chair, 
asked with whom he had the honour to speak, and was told 
with the Signorina Catarina Canacci. And it was the same 
tale over again of love at first sight, as always happens when 
a man whom no girl can resist meets a girl who is perfectly 
irresistible. 

"The end thereof being, that from that day the Signore 
Salviati went every day to the Casa Canacci, but however 
carefully he concealed his visits, they were found out by the 
cortegiana who had given Jacopo the box, who in turn soon 
conveyed the news to his wife, who at once set herself down 
to plot vengeance dire, dark, and terrible, which should be all 
the worse because she was really in love with her husband. 

"And the end of it was that she went forth and bought 
a magnificent vase or vaso di terra della Rohbia, and had 
inscribed on it in antique letters, Eratiimmto, or Betrayal. 
And then she obtained a beautiful bouquet of all the finest 
flowers in Florence and put them in the vase,^ and amid them 

^ As some days elapsed before the denouement of the story, I infer 
that the flowers were certainly growing plants. 



94 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

a square of white parchment bearing in scarlet letters the 
word ,S)0rpr£00, or Surprise ! 

"The husband, seeing all this, asked what it meant; to 
which his wife replied, that in a few days, or on the thirteenth 
of May, she would give a fine feast, ' At which,' she added, 
laughing, 'you will see some one whom you little expect to 
meet' It seemed indeed to the Signore Jacopo that there 
was something very mysterious in all this, nor did he much 
like the date of the thirteenth, nor such words as Treachery 
or Betrayal, but still set it all down to female caprice and let 
it pass. 

"Now, when the thirteenth day of the month came, the 
Signora Salviati begged her husband to remain at home that 
day to receive expected guests, and, on the other hand, she 
sent a message, purporting to come from her husband, begging 
the Signorina Caterina to send away all her servants and be 
alone at home to receive Jacopo. All of which being arranged, 
she sent two desperate villains or bravos to the house, who 
without trouble murdered the poor girl, and, cutting off her 
head, as they were commanded to do, wrapped it in a cloth, 
put it in a jar, and carried the whole to the lady, who, delighted, 
took the head — and a ghastly sight it was ! — and hid it among 
the flowers in the splendid vase which was on the dining-table. 

"The Signore Jacopo was very much astonished that no 
guests arrived, but his wife persuaded him with jests and 
cajoleries to sit down at the table, till at last, when he asked 
the name of the visitor who was to be to him such a surprise, 
she replied : 

" ' What ! don't you know ? Who should it be but your dear 
Caterina Canacci. Look at her ! ' 

"And saying this, she opened the flowers and showed 
among them the pale and bloody face of his murdered 
mistress ! 

" And as he gazed at it aghast, as one petrified with horror, 
his wife hissed in his ear : 

" ^Caro mio 7narito — my dear husband, I loved thee greatly, 
and as great was thy deceit, and such an injury I could not 
endure ; I swore revenge, and I have had it in full, and care 
not now what may come ' — mi sono vendicata I " 

It is interesting to contrast this legend as narrated by 
the people with the authentic history as given by Horner 
and Hare. It is as follows : 



THE LEGEND OF LA VILLA SALVIATI 95 

" In the Via de' Pilastri, near the Church of San Ambrogio, 
a terrible tragedy occurred in 1639. In the reign of Ferdinand 
11. there Uved here an elderly Florentine gentleman named 
Giustino Canacci, who had been twice married, and his second 
wife, Caterina, was celebrated for beauty and virtue. Jacopo 
Salviati, Duke of San Giuliano, was among her admirers, which 
excited the jealousy of his duchess, Veronica Cibo, a princess 
of Massa. She determined to get rid of her fancied rival, and 
Caterina having incurred the hatred of her stepson, Barto- 
lommeo, he consented to guide three assassins, hired by the 
duchess, to this house. Here they murdered her with her 
maid. Caterina's head was then cut off and taken to the 
duchess, who concealed it in a basket of clean linen, which 
it was customary to place in her husband's apartment on the 
first day of the year. The duke uncovered the basket, and 
nearly fainted away on seeing the contents. Though the crime 
was of so heinous a nature, Bartolommeo Canacci alone 
suffered punishment ; he was seized and beheaded, whilst the 
rest of the guilty ones escaped, the duchess leaving Florence 
in greater dread even of the fury of the people than of the 
justice of the tribunals. A well still exists in the Via de' 
Pentolini, into which the body of Bartolommeo is said to have 
been thrown." , 

I prefer the story as given by Maddalena. The idea 
of the head coming home, like that of a certain eminent 
statesmen, " buried in his shirt-collars " or " in the wash/' 
is not romantic, and there is something unpleasantly 
suspicious in the statement that a lot of clean linen v^as 
annually placed by the fascinating Veronica as a New 
Year's surprise for her husband. It must have been a 
great rarity in the family. Perhaps it was her neglect of 
the laundry department which led to the whole tragedy. 
On the whole, I prefer the bouquet. 

The Villa Salviati itself is at the corner where the 
Corso joins the Via del Proconsolo, and it is interesting as 
occupying the site of the ancient house of Folco Portinari, 
the father of the Beatrice of Dante. In its court is shown 
the Nicchia or niche where the poet is supposed to have 
watched and waited for his eight-year-old lady-love, and. 



96 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

as Boccaccio tells us, " took her image so deeply into his 
mind that no subsequent pleasure could ever afterwards 
extinguish or repel it — she becoming in his more advanced 
age the frequent and woeful cause of his most burning 
sighs and of many bitter tears." 

So it appears that the Villa Salviati does not lack asso- 
ciation with a dismal tale after all. But it has also a 
pleasanter one. The great vocal artists Mario and Grisi 
dwelt there for several years before the death of the latter. 
I have the autographs of both as they were written for 
me. That of Mario contains in addition to his signature 
the following singular ^'sentiment" — ^^ Sono ammalato 
oggV^ — " I ain unwell to-day," which was probably the 
most sincere — it being at the time the predominating — 
sentiment of which he was capable. To which Flaxius : 

" So do they come like shadows, so depart — the grim trage- 
dians of the olden time — the artists of a later day, who sing 
or act the desperate deeds done long ago. 

*' "Tis all a wild phantasmagoria, 

So do we rise and so we pass away.' " 



UGOLO AND GHERARDO. 

A STORY OF LA VIA BALDRACCA. 

'*Yea, there are men like rats, y-born to steal 
And live in darkness or in filthy ways ; 
And some like serpents slipping through the grass, 
Or coiled in grass or flowers ; and rat or snake 
Is quick to bite for vengeance, and the teeth 
Of both are charged with poison, like their souls." 

— C. G. L. 

I TELL this tale as it was told to me, though I have 
put it into smoother form : 

" There was in the Via dell' Anguillara a palace belonging to 
an old gentleman who was very rich. He owned two large 
estates in the country, one of which was known as the Castello 
di Due Torri, the other as the Castello del' Uovo. He had 
also a house in the Via Baldracca, in which dwelt his in- 
tendente or steward, named Ugolo. Unto this man, in whom 
he had the greatest confidence, the old signore had trusted 
all his affairs; and the only child and heir of the old lord 
was a son named Gherardo, who indeed deserved to be 
favoured by fortune, since he was as noble by mind as by 
birth, honourable, manly, and generous. 

"But it came to pass that in the castle and estate of the 
Two Towers everything, despite the best management, began 
to go from bad to worse ; for, firstly, it was haunted by ghosts 
and witches, so that no one could be induced to live in it. 

"Then the fields were devastated by storms, and every 
crop was destroyed by hail. It seemed as if the de'il had 
selected this estate to ruin it, for while others escaped, it was 
especially spoiled. 

" The signore said, ' 'Tis a proverb, C/ie il grano quando e 
net campij e di Dio e dei santi — ' When the grain is in the ground, 
God and the saints have care of it,' but it seems to me that 

II 97 G 



98 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Satan alone has charge of mine. Ah well, I must sell the 
estate for whatever it will bring, since it only brings me into 
debt' So Ugolo sold it for him at a very low price. 

" Then the same thing happened with the Castel del' Uovo, 
and the lord signore dying very suddenly, Gherardo found 
that he had nothing left him but the palazzo in the Via 
Anguillara. So he dwelt in it, living by renting out its rooms. 

" Among its tenants were a widow lady, who seemed to be 
about thirty-five years of age, yet who was very beautiful and 
gentile or refined, who had a charming daughter. With these 
Gherardo became very intimate, sympathising with them as 
people who were, like himself, very poor and obliged to keep 
up appearances, yet of gentle blood and culture. So it came 
to pass that he gave them their rooms rent free, and in the 
end they formed, as it were, one family, the signora being to 
Gherardo as a friend and mother. 

" But even this felicity was soon disturbed, for, as the proverb 
says: 

*' ' Non gridar pesci fritti 
Prima d'esser presi ; 
Non mi dir oliva, 
Prima che mi vedi 'colta.' 

[ht: 



' Fry not your fish 
Before they're caug 
Cry not your oHves 
Till they are bought.' 



"And so it was with Gherardo. For ere long his palace 
began to be infested with shadows which grew to ghosts, 
uncanny sounds, which became horrible, evil odours, poisoning 
all the rooms, tittering which increased to ghastly laughter, and, 
finally, apparitions of goblins, dead men in shrouds, monks, 
white, black, and grey, nuns with eyes of pale fire, and shrieks 
at midnight, the end of it being that all the tenants left, and 
Gherardo found himself desperately poor. 

" Now there came one, and then two, and then more, who 
said that 'twas reported that the signora with whom he was so 
intimate was simply a witch, who was ruining his house and 
him; which seemed to him so ridiculous, that the next 
evening at supper he told her all he had heard. But what was 
his amazement when she replied : 

" ' It is all true, Gherardo ; I am gifted with sorcery, and I 
came here to ruin this house, even as I ruined the two estates 
of thy father. But in all this there is a mystery. 



UGOLO AND GHERARDO 99 

" ' Now listen with patience and I will tell thee all. 

" ' To-morrow the Signore Ugolo, who was for so many 
years the steward of thy father, and who is now thine, will 
invite thee to supper in the Via Baldracca, in that house of 
thine where he dwells. Then he will offer thee a thousand 
scudi for this house, and whatever it may be, do thou accept 
it. I shall be there with my daughter to serve thee at table. 
Assent to all that he proposes, appear to be agreeable; but, 
come what may, do not leave the house nor speak a word till 
thou hast heard all I have to say.' 

"And Gherardo had such confidence in the signora, that 
without more ado he went the next day to the supper. 

"The steward Ugolo made himself very hospitable and 
amiable, and, as the lady had foretold, he offered Gherardo a 
thousand crowns for his palazzo, to which the youth assented, 
whereupon the steward cried : 

" * We must wet the bargain, and I have in my cellar some 
of the very best wine in all Tuscany. TopJ>o I Signora Beatrice, 
I beg you to bring a fiascone. Meanwhile, caro signore^ we 
will pass into the next room, where I will pay you the money 
and give you a receipt. I have indeed paid you twice its 
value for that old haunted castle, but I have been long in your 
service, and am your friend.' ' 

" But Gherardo said to himself, ' Frase — 'tis all talk ! Now 
I indeed see that this scoundrel proves what the proverb says : 

" ' Fammi fattore un anno, 

Se sara coglione sara mio danno.' 

* * ' Give nie the care of that land of thine, 
And in a year it shall all be mine.' 

" Then they returned to the supper-room, and on the table 
were two large beautiful cups full of wine. 

" ' Let us drink I ' cried Ugolo merrily, and emptied his 
goblet. 

" But Gherardo did not drink — he felt appalled, as if some- 
thing terrible was at hand— and in an instant he saw Ugolo 
turn pale as death and heard him scream : 

" ' I am ill — dying — I die by poison.' 

" ' Yes,' cried the Signora Beatrice, ' thou art dying indeed, 
and the devil has at last got his own. Not content with having 
robbed Gherardo of all his property, thou must needs poison 
him, to cheat him out of the paltry price of his last house. 

LOFC 



loo LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Know, thou vile wretch, whom I have hated to the death for 
years, and served as an ill-requited slave, that it was I who 
poisoned thee ; and learn also that Gherardo will inherit every 
quattrino of thy stolen wealth. And so die ! ' . 

" As she said this he drew his last breath. The signora 
heaved a sigh, not indeed of grief, but of relief, and said : 

" ' How glad I am that he has gone to the devil — if the 
devil indeed cares to have such a pitiful villain ! Va e fatti 
rendere i quattrini in inferno^ Signore Ugolo ! — 'tis a good 
riddance of bad rubbish to bury thee, as we shall do anon. 
And now, my dear boy, listen to me ! 

" ' I have killed that man, your old steward, without remorse, 
for he was a heartless villain. Your father trusted him in 
everything, treated him like a friend, heaped him with 
favours and hoped for his success. He repaid it by ruining 
his benefactor, whom he at last poisoned. That I could not 
prevent.' 

" ' He went to a witch and said to her : " I will pay thee 
well if thou canst cause the Castle of the Two Towers and 
the estate to be haunted and the crops destroyed." The 
witch knew it was beyond her power, and so gave the affair 
to me. 

" ' I was bound to thee, dear Gherardo, by many ties of love. 
Thy mother was of the fairy race and allied to me. Had I 
not undertaken to ruin thy father's property it would have 
been done by another. Yes, I wasted thy property, but 
advised the steward to buy and keep it, and keep with it all 
his savings, which were very great. 

" * Then it came to pass that Ugolo was to sign for me one 
day an agreement that I should receive a hundred crowns for 
some of my evil work when it should be accomplished. I 
prepared two documents, exactly alike. One was the agree- 
ment, the other was a will by which he bequeathed all his 
property to you, stating that he had robbed you and wished 
to do you justice. I made him drunk with a potion which 
deprived him of half his senses, and so had no trouble in 
inducing him to sign the will. Here it is. Take it. 

" ' This evening he meant to poison you, but he drank the 
poisoned wine himself. Now thou knowest all. 

" ' But stay ! Come with me into the cellar and see the 
last proof of his infamy.' 

" They went together, and she showed him a recess or tomb 
in the wall, with a stone fitted to cover it. 



UGOLO AND GHBRARDO loi 

"'That was to have been thy tomb. It shall serve for 
Ugolo.' 

" Gherardo and Beatrice buried the steward. 

" So Ugolo died and Gherardo inherited his wealth. He 
soon after married the daughter of Beatrice, and all lived 
happily together. 

" But it is said that to this day the ghost of Ugolo haunts 
the old house in the Via Baldracca. 

" ' When spiders spin their webs to prey on flies, 
Let them beware lest wasps get caught in them.' " 

Truly a terrible mother-in-law. But as the story 
states that they all lived happily together, we may infer 
that people who are of fairy descent have mutual under- 
standings and ways of their own, and are not as common 
mortals. There are glimpses of a strong character in 
Gherardo, as became his descent. 

It may be observed that, while not reduced to a system, 
it is evident that in Tuscan tradition both witches and 
fata, or fairies, seem to be excluded after death from 
heaven, hell, or purgatory; that is, as belonging properly 
to the heathen stock, they go their own heathen ways. 
The good or white witch, or the magician who has done 
no harm, becomes a. fata, who is, as a rule, benevolent, for 
the evil fairies are properly witches. And Bulwer inti- 
mates of the Rosicrucians, that there are men and women 
in ordinary life who, having a strain of witch, magician, 
ox fata blood in their veins, are more or less looked after 
by their supernatural relations. 

This may have originated in a curious fact, that when 
an ancestor has taken great interest in occult subjects, 
the tendency is often shown sometimes long after in a 
descendant. I myself know of two cases of ladies 
passionately addicted to folklore who are descendants, 
one of a Salem witch, the other of a similar sorceress. 

" HcEc fabula docet" saith the experienced Flaxius, " that 
the most firmly estabhshed popular beliefs — as, for instance, 



I02 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

that the mother-in-law is an enemy of the human race as 
represented by the husband, is, if not an egregious error, at 
least one with very numerous exceptions; and where these 
occur, the kindly feeling is generally extreme. For to assume 
that all women are by nature such fools as to make them- 
selves /lafed, when that hatred must infallibly cause the 
husband to make his wife unhappy, is preposterous. And 
I believe that this opinion is chiefly the result of that silliest 
of all schools of humour — the exaggerative — wherein every- 
body's nose is a foot long, every jest overdone and mannered, 
every uncle an old fool, and every mother-in-law a dragon. 

" From all such follies, 
Whatever they be, 
Libera semper 
Nos, Domine ! " 



THE PALAZZO STROZZINO 

*' Here I give you the marvellous history 
Of an av^^ful horrible mystery, 

Of murder and crime 

In the olden time, 

Of hidden treasure 

Beyond all measure, 
Which happed to a lord who lived in a palace, 
And had no cause to fear the gallows. 
His heart being very remarkably callous, 
As is charmingly set forth in ^Ms story. " 

To the south-west of the great Palazzo Strozzi, in the Via 
Tornabuoni, stands the smaller palace called // Strozzino 
or de^ Strozziniy of which I have the following singular 
legend : 

II Palazzo degli Strozzini. 

" The Palazzo degli Strozzini is in the Piazza delle CipoUe 
by the Palazzo Strozzi. Its lords were usurers, who took one 
hundred per cent, interest, and after them all came one who 
was the worst, and yet he had a son who was as wasteful of 
money as his father was avaricious. And hence came terrible 
scenes, the father swearing and blaspheming in a manner which 
would make the hair rise on your head to hear it. And at 
last, by dint of dwelling ever on one thing and being always 
in a rage over it, it came to pass that the old man became 
as it were insane on the subject, and ever reflecting how he 
could keep his gains from being wasted. 

"Now there was in the palazzo, concealed in some way in 
the wall, and unknown to any save the old lord, a room or 
two, and so he made an old mason come, and said to him, 
*I desire that thou wilt come to-morrow and wall up this 
door, so that no one can perceive what has been done ; and 
if thou wilt keep it a secret, I will pay thee well, and mind 
that thou dost thy work speedily and unseen.' 



I04 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" And so he paid him in advance, and gave him, moreover, 
a bottle of very fine old wine. And the work was done, 
but the mason did not know that the old lord himself was 
in the secret chamber, where he had placed his vast treasure, 
in many bags of gold with jewels, also with much provision 
and wine. And what his scheme or plan was nobody can 
really say, whether he hoped to live there till his son should 
die or be impoverished, but it was plain that first of all he 
wished to keep his money and gloat over it, and left the end 
to fate, having the means to dig away the walls should he 
desire it. 

" As for the mason, he took his tools and bottle of wine, 
and went to a shop where he had supper served, and then 
drank his wine, but he had barely finished it ere he fell dead, 
for it had been poisoned. And no one knew it or suspected 
the cause of his death, and so the secret passed away with him. 
" The son and heir sought far and wide for his father, but 
all in vain. He wrote letters and sent forth messengers and 
offered rewards, but got no news for his pains. Then he 
began a wild and reckless life of debauchery, spending what 
money or wasting what means he had. So one farm went 
after another, all to gambling and to girls and every folly, till 
naught remained to him but the Palazzo Strozzino. And he 
had begun negotiations to sell it, when one night, whether it 
was in a dream or waking, there appeared to him a shadowy 
form, a form which became more and more distinct — the form 
of an old mason whom he remembered as always having been 
employed about the palazzo since he was a boy. And the spirit 
said: 

** ' Him whom thou deem'st long sped away 

Was near thee still by night and day ; 

On evil deeds thou didst presume, 

And drove him to a living tomb ; 

Great was his folly in his time, 

And full as great thy reckless crime. 

Yet, as I would not wish to see 

The end of a great family, 

I'll give thee yet a chance to thrive, 

If thou wilt as a Christian live. 

Remove the wall which here we see 

And thou wilt read the mystery, 

And learn where 'twas thy father fled, 

And find a fortune with the dead.' 

" Then the wall was taken away, and they found the body 
among the bags of gold, and the son, struck with remorse, 



THE PALAZZO STROZZINO 105 

repented and became a good man and honourable citizen. 
So in due time he married, and, as the story ends, cosi si gode 
il resto del danaro colla suafa?niglta — and so enjoyed the rest 
of his estate with his family." 

With the exception of the ghost, there is nothing in this 
story which might not have really occurred — which remark 
I make in consequence of an incident which came, I may 
say, within the scope of my personal experience. A few 
years ago, a lady of the noblest family died in Venice, 
leaving an immense estate, such as had few rivals in 
Italy. I could fill several chapters with really interesting 
incidents and anecdotes relating to the extraordinary 
discoveries which were made after the death of the last 
Venetian proprietor, who had lived in absolute seclusion 
for fifty years, and who represented a family which had 
for six centuries been in the hereditary habit of hoarding 
up or collecting all kinds of objects, even to the dolls of its 
children. After the death of the last possessor referred 
to, an old female servant, who was the only depositary of 
the secret, revealed the existence of a million francs in 
old gold coins, hid away in some secret nook. 

When we reflect on the great risks to which men of all 
classes were exposed during the Middle Ages of being 
deprived of any kind of ostensible property by the strong 
hand, it does not seem remarkable that there should have 
been hidden closets and buried treasures in abundance. 
It is not impossible, what with Socialist seizures and the 
decrease of interest, that men may revert to hoarding 
gold. 

Yes, even since writing that last line, I read in V Italic 
of July 30, 1 89 1, how an immense treasure of very 
ancient gold coins has just been unearthed in the suburbs 
of Bologna ; and there had been for centuries a tradi- 
tion that there was a treasure there. When we reflect 
that for so many thousand years the earth was the only 
safety -bank known, as I have already said, and that 



LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

many must have died without reveaHng their hoards, it is 
indeed probable that there is much which will never be 
treasure-trove. Add to this the fact that an absurd law 
prevents the finder from becoming the owner, and we 
can understand why such trouvailles are generally hidden. 
There is now going on in England a case of very recent 
occurrence, referring to a poor man having found a golden 
chalice, or something of the sort, which was sold for 
£'JO0y of which the finder never received a penny, which 
is a good example pour encourager les autres to hide and 
melt down every antique in precious metal. 

" Und noch welter — ' and still wider.' Even in the sea, all 
the whales and sturgeons belong, de facto and by law, to Her 
Majesty the Queen, which, considering that whalebone is now 
worth ;^iooo per ton, and that my caviare costs me three 
shillings a tin, would amount to a pretty penny, if the august 
lady got it. And as Britannia- Victoria rules the waves, there 
is a still larger source of income awaiting her. For chemistry 
has ascertained that in every ton of sea-water there is one 
grain of pure silver in solution, all of which is rightfully the 
property of the crown ; or more properly, including the pre- 
vious rights, the Prince of Wales. Which offers a vast field 
for speculation as to the degree to which royal and ecclesiastical, 
or municipal or territorial rights may be carried out, according 
to the letter of the law. 

" ' For I can see it writ as in a vision, 

Since in all lives there's some confounded flaw, 
We might the whole of us be sent to prison, 
According to the Letter of the Law.' 

" And truly this comment would be most imperfect should 
I omit to state that in Florence the commonest term of abuse 
for a miser, niggard, churl, screw, skinflint, crib, scrimper, lick- 
penny, hunks, curmudgeon, Harpagon, Elwes, extortioner, 
close-shaver, gouger, cent-per-center, do or Jew, is a Strozzino 
or Strozzhione, the which term I heard applied no later than 
yesterday evening by my landlady to one who, if her tale be 
true, as I well wot it was, deserved the term in all its pleni- 
tude — ^according to the letter of the law." 



A STORY OF LA VIA PORTA ROSS A, OR HOW 
SIGNORE DOZZI STOLE THE DONKEY 

" Who stole the donkey ? Tell us pray ? 
The man in a white hat, men say, 
And more than that, do what we can, 
We may not learn from mortal man. 
But in the land of Tuscany 
The tale is told as here you see, 
How a young lord before the folk 
Once stole an ass, and ran a mok. " 

When we live in a city, it is often pleasant in certain 
places to recall old legends, or even the most trifling tales 
which belong to the locale, since association lends to 
each a peculiar romance. Such is the following story, 
from an old jest-book, which I always recall when passing 
through the narrow and ever-crowded Porta Rossa, which 
leads from the Via Tornabuoni, opposite the column of 
the Trinita. It is not Hterally translated. 

Il Asino. 

" There were in the old times, when all kinds of odd dresses, 
strange dishes, freaks and flirty fancies were commoner or 
lordlier than at present, many gentlemen, young, and even 
old, who made it a profession di far burle^ to play tricks 
and study out jokes ; and when one made a hit of the kind, 
the whole town talked about it like bells, and made it the 
great news of the day. Ah well, the world was young then, 
and it laughed more. 

" Now among these gay fellows was a young noble who was 
one day with some friends leaning against a shop in the Via 
Porta Rossa, when they saw a great stark, rough-and-tough 
peasant rushing along, his eyes staring wide open, going four 
feet at a stride, with the skirts of his robe between his legs, 



io8 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

and leading an ass which had to gallop to keep up with him — 
I believe that my ancestor (whoever he was four hundred 
years ago), as he stood there, thought it would make a good 
picture. 

" ' Now I will bet a supper for us all,' said the young gentle- 
man, ' that I will steal that ass from that peasant while he is 
on the full run.' 

" ' It is impossible,' replied the Signore Strozzi. 

" ' It is nof possible,' added the Marquis Pozzi. 

" ' It is beyond possibility,' rejoined the Count Cozzi ; ' but 
we take the bet' Cozzi was known as Cozzone, the ' horse- 
breaker,' among his friends, and he always accepted wagers, 
in corso, ' in course,' or running. 

"' Done,' exclaimed Dozzi; 'twelve to one on it.' Dozzi 
was the young gentleman-joker. 

" The Signore Dozzi ran after the peasant. On the way he 
picked up with a wink a rascally street-boy, who took in the 
whole worldly situation and entire task at a glance. There are 
some of the same sort still left in Florence, signore. 

"When the peasant, still staring ahead and never looking 
behind, was stopped for an instant by the crowd, the Signore 
Dozzi with his sharp dagger at a single cut severed the rope 
round the neck of the ass, and the boy caught hold of the end, 
making an ass of himself for two minutes. 

" The peasant proceeded, not noticing the change in animals, 
The Signore Dozzi mounted the donkey, and turning, rode 
in the opposite direction, and arrived in triumph before his 
friends. 

" Anon the boy ceased to be an ass, that is, he let go the 
halter, and also made his Fade retro. The peasant, not feeling 
any pull, also retrospected, and found that he had lost his 
property. 

"You have heard of Lamentations, signore; but those of 
the Old Testament and Rachel mourning for her children 
all rolled into one " 

" ' Add those of Sancho in " Don Chisiotte," ' I added. 

" ' Certainly, signore — if necessary. Well, all their howling 
together was nothing to that of that contadino when he found 
that his friend and brother was gone. He sat down on a 
doorstep and yelled and wailed, and sung sad verses alia 
contadinesca, to a great sympathising crowd, till many wept 
with him. 

" But when at last they were all about to move off to the 



A STORY OF LA VIA PORTA ROSSA 109 

prefect to seek justice or vengeance, they were amazed to 
see trotting into their midst my Lord Dozzi mounted on the 
missing animal. 

"There was a great rejoicing, and the signore giving the 
peasant a fiorino^ converted his tears to smiles. But when 
he narrated the whole story unto all, there was a storm of 
applause, and the tale still lives. 

" ' So the signer won his wager, 
And the peasant got his gold, 
And 'twas thus that people frolicked 
In the merry days of old.' " 

This tale, v^hich is told among the people, may also be 
found in divers jest-books — notably in the Facetice Diverse 
of 1636, which I have partly followed in my narration. 
It is curious as indicating the great general public interest 
taken in the current joke of the day — whatever it was — 
which thing existed to a certain degree in American 
cities long after it had disappeared in England. 

With this is connected another story of the same 
stamp, which I am pleased, to find attributed to the same 
gentleman, who appears to have been a youth who 
made it lively for Florence with his repues /ranches a la 
Francois Villon, while he lasted. It is as follows : — 

The Lost Sheep. 

" Yet another trick did this same jester play on a butcher in 
Florence who lived opposite San Pietro. Now, it being hard 
upon the time of Carnival, the latter had displayed before his 
shop in tempting show the carcasses of several lovely sheep, 
suggesting many a fair roast and fine chop — cosferelle, costoline, 
ammorsellato — minces, ragouts, and all. 

"'Which of those do you think is our sheep?' inquired 
Signore Dozzi of Strozzi. (They were all there, with a re- 
inforcement of the Brotherhood.) 

" ' If I am not mistaken,' replied Strozzi, ' it is that beauti- 
ful one in the middle, with eyes like those of the Contessina 
Giulia Salviati.' 

"'Yes,' added the Marquis Pozzi, 'you ought to know 
them by this time — she has thrown them at you often 



no LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

enough. That is indeed our own dear little sheep. Pro- 
prie I ' 

" ' Our actual pet lamb,' swore Count Cozzi, ' gone astray." 

" ' Rifachelo co' pisellini, glie bono ! 
Pessedici I'agnello, pessedici ! ' 

" ' Cooked again with peas, 'tis very nice, 
Lamb ! and sixteen soldi is the price 1 ' 

chanted Pozzi, imitating the cry of the agiiellaio or lamb- 
butcher's vendor, as you may hear it even to this day in 
Florence. * We will have our lost sheep — with peas.' 

" ' Now observe,' said the noble Dozzi ; ' this is the correct 
game ! Stretch yourselves, signori, along the street at distances, 
like angels on a church-roof. I will bolt with our property ; 
and when the beccajo pours forth from his shop on the chase, 
and asks which way Paris has fled with Helen, you will tell 
Menelaus ' 

" ' Many lies, I fear,' added Cozzi. ' I am sure that the sheep 
will wander a devious path ere it be cooked.' 

" ' And do ye all,' exclaimed Dozzi, ' as soon as ye have 
told the butcher where to go, tell all the town to tell him the 
same thing. Spread it out broad and thick as a contadina's 
pancake.' 

" So having disencumbered himself of cloak and sword, to 
be in light marching order, Dozzi, who could run like a deer, 
waited till the butcher had gone into the back-shop, and 
catching up the pretty sheep, tossed it over his shoulder and 
ran like the devil. An instant after, the butcher emanated 
from his shop, missed the sheep, and raising a scarlet hue 
and cry, shot up the street till at the Via Fiesolana he met with 
the Marquis Pozzi. 

" ' Have you seen anybody go by with a sheep ? ' 

" He put the question so abruptly that the Marquis, being 
startled, in his confusion answered erroneously : 

"*Yes, down the Orojuolo towards the Duomo. Then 
the first turning to the left on the right hand, at the left three 
times round the corner, and then ask at the pastry-cook's.' 

"The butcher did not wait to hear him out, but dashed 
ventre a terre like a rocket with its tail on fire after his 
mutton. And a furlong later on he found the noble sports- 
man Cozzi. 

" ' Ha veduto passare uno con un castrone scorticato addosso ? — 



A STORY OF LA VIA PORTA ROSSA in 

Hast thou seen any one with a skinned sheep on his back 
pass by ? ' gasped the butcher. 

" ' Was he a tall man about four feet high, smooth shaven 
with heavy black beard and greenish-pink mustachios ? ' 

" ' Yes, yes, yes,' cried the butcher, ' only tell me quick 
which way he went/ 

" ' With a small mosquito tattooed on the inside of the 
third finger, and a brass ring on his left big toe ? ' 

" ' Yes, yes ; where did he go ? ' 

" * Ah ! it was my long-lost brother ! ' cried Cozzi. ' Friend, 
I will run with you for a pint of wine. Follow me ! ' 

" Saying this, he cast himself forth into the beautiful night, 
and the two went like greyhound and gazelle, frisking, scouring, 
scampering, tearing like mad, till Cozzi had led his follower 
down the Calzaioli, and so on through the Signoria and Ufizii, 
where he vanished. But there was a third relay, and a prompt 
informant all ready to relieve him, who guided the butcher 
along the Arno to the Ponte Vecchio, where they found a 
fourth, and anon a fifth and sixth, and so on until it appeared 
to the butcher that everybody in Florence had seen the man 
with the sheep except himself; and as one said it was his 
cousin, and the other his sqn, and so on, he began to believe 
that the thief was cognato to the whole country. And in this 
manner they run him on, until, as the Florentine quaintly 
phrases it, 'he had not another yard of go left in him,' when 
they mercifully left him to get home as well as he could. 

" Now by about fourteen o'clock the next day all Florence 
had the whole story, and everybody, including Busybody, was 
industriously inquiring of his neighbour, 'or any other man,' 
' Have you seen the man with the sheep ? ' The Grand Duke 
asked it as a first question of the new French ambassador, who 
thought it referred to the Duke di Pizzicagnolo, who had just 
received the order of the Lamb, and answered ' Yes ; ' and a 
friar who had studied in Spain under Fra Gerundio de Zerotes 
made it the text of a great sermon, ' Vidisii hominem secuni.^ 

" The butcher was much astonished that same morning at 
receiving an invitation to dine with the Count Dozzi at his 
palace. He went in his best, and was courteously received, 
but was not a little amazed at meeting all the gentlemen who 
had directed him in the chase of the night before. 

" When there was borne in by two servitors a tremendous 
platter with a silver cover three feet long, which was removed 
with great ceremony to the sound of music, and all present 



112 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

beheld a sheep roasted whole, stuffed with pistachios and raisins 
and figs, and beautifully bedecked with roasted birds and/m 
de vo/at//e, etcetera^ aux truffes^ there was a roar of laughter borne 
out by the clash of cymbals and the crash of drums, and then one 
long wavering, solitary trumpet-call, and Signor Dozzi spoke : 

" ' Signore Beccaio, have you seen the man who stole the 
sheep ? ' 

" ' Yea, by St. John, I deem I see him now ! ' answered the 
bold butcher with a smile ; ' though it was not in this palace, 
but in that of the Bargello where I expected to find him.' 

" * Well, Master Butcher, we have had our fun, and mean to 
pay for it, so fix thy price.' 

" Now this butcher was a galantuomo e dabbene^ a right good 
fellow and honest ; so he answered : 

" ' As for \he,fun^ if ye call it fun to run all over Florence at 
full speed, I had more of it than all of you. And as for paying 
for the sheep, signore, I will pass that over on one stern con- 
dition, which is, that as I have provided the food for this feast, 
the banquet shall be regarded as one given by me, and that 
ye hold yourselves as my guests.' 

"There was another roar of laughter at this speech, and 
an applauding cry of ' Long live our host the butcher ! ' And 
from that day he did a roaring business, and in due time bought 
himself a fine palace in the Via Fiesolana, and on it there is 
a shield with a lamb holding up a cross like a parasol. And 
when anybody jeeringly asked him, ' Have you seen the man 
with the sheep ? ' he replied : 

" ' Truly I have, and that where you are little likely to see 
him — at a supper in one of the greatest palaces in Florence, 
among our noblest lords.' " 

This tale turns on a kind of jest which is but little 
known in England, but which was common in the United 
States before the civil war. It consisted of sending a 
victim about from post to pillar to find some imaginary 
person. In 1849 or 1850, when everybody was slightly 
insane as to gold in California, the mere mention that a 
new-comer from the new Ophir had inquired for anybody 
was enough to make anybody believe that a fortune was 
seeking him. To one of these hopeful beings a bar-keeper 
said one morning : 



A STORY OF LA VIA PORTA ROSSA 113 

" Have you seen Frank MacLaughlin ? " 

'^ Who is he?" 

'* A man just returned from California — he says he's 
got something for you. Guess he's now at the Dew- 
drop Inn." 

The victim swallowed the bait and a cocktail, and set 
out on the chase for Frank MacLaughlin. The bar- 
keeper at the Dewdrop Inn took in the situation at a 
glance, and sent him farther on. Then the man himself, 
finding himself hoaxed, hoaxed others, and the bar- 
keepers catching the idea, sent away all their customers 
to find fresh MacLaughlins in their turn. All New 
York rang with the joke — there was a poem on it — 
and another phrase added to the great dictionary of 
American slang. 

"HcBcfadu/a docef" here commentates our Flaxius, "that 
there are certain strangely quaint questions which are con- 
tinued and mooted, considered and moralised upon through 
the ages without being set^tled. Even as a rivulet which 
dryeth up in summer only to become a tremendous torrent in 
the spring, do they rise and fall from year to year ; for man 
may come and man may go, but they keep on for ever. 
Now one of these is the very antique questio vexata, ' Who 
Stole the Donkey ? ' which appears in an Egyptian papyrus, 
which is darkly set forth in the ' Golden Ass ' of Apuleius, and 
again reflected in the ^sopian fable of the theft of the 
shadow of the ass by the youthful Cretan, which is believed 
to mystically mean the stealing of the soul by Typhon. And 
even so hath it been considered since days of yore as a kind 
of esoteric watchword among men of genius, or a secret sign, 
as ye may see by passages in the ' Midsummer Night's Dream,' 
' Don Quixote,' ' The Sentimental Journey,' Die Abderiten, and 
Heine's Reisebilder. Perdy ! it is indeed wonderful, yea, 
awful to consider that there is no ancient mythology in 
which the mysterious obtainment of the donkey does not find 
place, it being, as it were, a proof of having attained to the 
highest initiation ! Now in modern times, as shown by a 
strange romance which appeared in Punch on a time, the 
question is settled by declaring that he who stole the donkey 

II H 



114 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

was the man in the white hat, regarding whom I refrain from 
further discussion, my only object being to note the great 
antiquity of the subject, and the fact that it finds a place 
in the sublimest mysteries and greatest works of literary art 
of all bygone epochs of humanity ! " 



THE GRAND DUKE, OR THE NOVEL OF 
IPOLITO THE TRUE-HEARTED MAN 

" If there bee of friendes two 
Truly to eche other true, 
Either working like a brother 
With all hearte to aid y« other, 
Fewe there are i' the worlde's mass 
Who know what theye can bringe to passe." 

— C. G. L. 

" There was once in Florence a Grand Duke who was indeed 
a noble gentleman, but who had become disgusted with all the 
tribe of courtiers and flatterers round him, since, as he declared, 
it might be said of every soul of them, dell' a vista, deiitro 
trista — ' fair without and foul within ' — ' honey on the tongue 
and poison in the heart.' 

'* ' Ell' e fatta come la castagna, 

Bella di fuori, e dentro la magnagna.' 

** ' Like a chestnut, fair to see, 

But rotten within as rotten can be.' 

"So he loved to go out alone by night in disguise— ^/>^- 
vagare per la citta — to wander wild in corners of the town to 
see something of people as they really were. 

" But unfortunately there are some who are by nature very 
nasty, and the Duke one night chanced in a house of low 
resort or evil fame upon a precious party of such people, who 
first drugged him with opium, then robbed and beat him, and 
finally threw him for dead into the street. 

"Now there dwelt in Florence at that time a gentleman 
named Ipolito, who was of good family, learned, and, as the 
saying was of another clever Florentine — apt as Vaccuccia at 
everything. And he was of a kind heart and charitable. 

" He, passing by, found the Duke nearly dying ; so he bore 
him into his own house and took all possible pains to restore 
him, never dreaming who the sufferer was, and least of all 



ii6 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

supposing that this apparently poor devil who had been hauled 
headlong out of one of the most infamous dens in the city 
could be the Grand Duke. And yet Ipolito was very learned, 
so that if not quite a conjurer, he was half a magician, and 
when he set his wits to work with a will and saw his way, could 
work wonders and read men like books, as this tale will indeed 
show. 

"But even with the Duke, who was very badly dressed, 
Ipolito observed that the hands were white and the face 
refined and handsome. ' 'Tis a gentleman,' he said, ' though 
he may be poor.' 

" Now when the Duke came to himself, he said to Ipolito, 
' Why do you take such care of me, who am only a poor devil, 
who can never repay you in any way ? ' 

" Ipolito replied : ' That you are poor, I plainly can perceive, 
and so am I. But poverty goes hand in hand with philosophy, 
and also with charity. And truly I declare that I am at ease 
regarding all gratitude, if you are simply honest. For two 
men, however poor they may be, if they have true hearts and 
brave, can do more for one another than any two rich men 
can — such as the rich generally are ; and if all poor men did 
but know this and would act wisely on it, there would be little 
suffering in this life. And there is no greater folly than doing 
good to a rascal or a fool, but nothing better than to benefit 
a gentleman. 

" ' I do not know how it is,' continued IpoUto, speaking to 
the Duke, still thinking he was a poor man, ' but you seem to 
be a gentleman, and if you really are one, glad and well pleased 
am I to have helped you, for I know that some time or other 
in the long-run you will do me a good turn, and anyhow 'tis a 
pleasure to do such a good turn to one of the brotherhood, as 
I see you are.' 

" Now, if all the geniuses in all the world had combined to 
say something to please the Duke, they could not have suc- 
ceeded as Ipolito did with these few simple, frank words. ' I 
verily believe,' said the Duke to himself, ' that I have found the 
man I want. Let me try ! ' 

" So he said to Ipolito : 

"'I will make a serious agreement with you. I will do 
everything in my power to benefit you, and you shall do the 
same for me. Now what is it you most desire, Ipolito ? ' 

" The host replied : 

" ' What I most desire is far beyond my utmost hope ; I am 



THE GRAND DUKE 117 

a fool to wish it — as great a fool as was Martino d'Amelia,^ who 
believed that the star Diana was his wife. My Diana is the 
hope to have fifty crowns a month, to live in a fine palace, to 
move in the society of great and cultured men, where there is 
a great library, with work befitting a gentleman and scholar, 
for though I am as poor as you are, I believe that I am t/iaf. 
But let my dream go — it will come true when Easter falls in 
August, when we shall see white flies and the devil is made 
Pope.' 

" Then the Grand Duke laughed /n petto^ or to himself, and 
thought : 

" ' Truly it will be an easy thing for me to give this Martino 
his Diana, but all the good he can ever do for me, I ween, 
will go without cramming into the mouth of a gnat, and never 
choke it. In faith, I owe him much more than fifty scudi a 
month and free quarters in my palace. Andiamo ! but I fancy 
that all the benefits henceforth will be like the handle of the 
jug of Pietro Sgabello, which was all on one side.' 

" Then speaking aloud he said : 

" ' Friend Ipolito, I fear that I can do but little for thee. 
However, for a beginning, I think I can manage to obtain for 
thee a chance to dine in a palace. By good luck I have a 
cousin, a priest, who is admitted to the court of the Grand 
Duke ; we will visit the good man, and I will commend you 
to him. You are both men of letters, and it may be that we 
may manage through him — who knows ? — -to get an invitation 
to dinner. Per Bacco I I'll not swear to it, but as unlikely 
things have come to pass. Anyway we must push a little to 
get on. Tenteremo ! 

" ' Ben faremo, ben diremo, 
Mai va la barca senza remo.' 

** ' If we want the boat to go, 
We must set to work and row.' 

*"A man like thee should grasp at every chance, cospeito I 
But do remember to be very careful how you act, diavolo 1 I 
don't want to bring an ass into a hall who may get me kicked 
out. Do not be too forward nor too backward, take it dis- 
creetly ; perhaps we may catch a fish after all. Chi sa ? Even 
as poor devils as we are have got on at court : 

■^ Unquestionably a form of Endymion, who is found in another legend 
with a changed name. Diana is the moon. 



ii8 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

'"Chisa? Chisa? 

Evviva ropportunita ! * 

" ' Who knows what may be ? 
Hurrah for the opportunity ! ' 

" So it was arranged, and the next day the two went together 
to the palace. The Signore Ipolito appeared very properly 
clad, and looking at the Grand Duke, he said : 

" ' But, my dear fellow, how do you ever expect to get in, 
looking such a tatterdemalion as you are ? Sarete discacciato I 
you'll be fired out like an arrow into outer darkness.' 

" ' Oh, never mind me — Til do,' replied the Duke. ' I'll just 
drop in to my cousin's room before dinner and borrow a suit. 
Just keep your eye on me, and see if I do not come out vestito 
decenterneiite — looking decent. ' 

" So they entered the palace, and the Duke whisked out of 
sight to see his cousin, first whispering a word in the ear of a 
lackey, who forth^vith took blaster Ipolito into the dining-hall, 
where he had a place given him at the table. Truly it was 
among la genie di basso cete or the humble guests, who sat below 
the salt, but Ipolito was none the less pleased for all that. 

" Then, after a quarter of an hour's waiting, trumpets sounded, 
music rang, and the Grand Duke, magnificently arrayed — 
vestito superbamente — entered surrounded by his cortege. 

" Ipolito was indeed amazed, and doubted at first his very 
senses, clever conjurer as he was. 

"The Duke looked round at all present, and then suddenly 
exclaimed, pointing at Ipolito : 

"^Who the devil is that man there?' 

" ' I do not know, your Highness,' replied the caineriere. 

" ' Make him come up here, and give him a seat by me,' 
said the Duke. And when this was done, his Highness 
exclaimed : 

" '• Betircenuto siete, vol, Sig?iore Ipolito. Be thou boon- wel- 
come, Master Ipolito ! Now will we drink a hearty glass 
together ! My lords,' he continued, raising his voice, ' let 
me present to you the most gallant gentleman in Florence, 
who yesterday evening saved my life.' 

"And when Ipolito was seated, as the dinner went on the 
Duke asked him quietly — 

" ' Well, will you be content to live here, with fifty crowns 
a month, as my private secretary, with free use of the library, 
a seat at my table, meeting all the scholars and other folk 
of Florence ? ' 



THE GRAND DUKE 119 

" ' Vuo/e u-h! anitra a nuotare ? — Would a duck swim ? ' re- 
plied Ipolito, who was installed forthwith in office. 

" ' What did you think of my company at dinner yesterday ? ' 
said the Duke suddenly to Ipolito, as the latter was writing 
to dictation the next day. 

" ' I think, your Highness, that there were among them three 
of the greatest scoundrels I ever met in all my life. One of 
them had poison in his pocket, and they endeavoured during 
all the meal to find an opportunity to give it to you. They 
spoke together in a language which I understood, but which 
they believed no person present knew. And at one time, 
before everybody present, their leader succeeded, by sleight of 
hand, in dropping some of the powder in your Highness's glass. 
But I fortunately removed it.' 

" ' I remember,' said the Duke slowly, * that once during 
the evening thou didst, as I thought, very carelessly indeed, 
empty my glass instead of thine own. Was that the poison ? 
How art thou then alive ? ' 

"'Highness, I had an antidote, and I contrived to spill 
most of the wine. ' 

" ' Which I, noting, thought thee a clumsy fellow, hardly 
fit for a courtly table. Aye, thus it was I mistook good for 
bad, misunderstanding the /noblest risk of life for want of 
respect.' 

" The three conspirators were at once arrested, sent to the 
Bargello, and executed. 

" ' Diavolo ! ' said the Grand Duke to himself as he looked 
at Ipolito, who, happy as the day was long, sat at a table 
drafting a treaty — ' that man, after all, tiene Vequilibrio contra 
w^— holds the balance against me. He keeps me in his 
debt, all I can do. Yes, he's stronger than I thought. Ah 
well ! an honest friend is worth more than riches. I hoped 
to pay all the bill, and lo ! he has settled it himself ! He has 
saved my life twice, and I dare say when I double his salary, 
as I intend to do to-day, he will go and save it again to- 
morrow, just to keep ahead of me, the scamp ! Now I see 
that poverty is no reason why a man should not be noble and 
independent. Poverta non fa che Vuomo non sia generoso — 
want of wealth is no excuse for not being generous. He who 
knows how to receive should also know how to give.' 

"Two together can do more for one another than three 
separately can do for themselves, and three more than seven, 
that is, if all be loving, zealous, and true or earnest in one 



I20 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

another's interests. But it is in this last that the whole truth 
lies, since without truth there is no real union." 

Of which tale the story is given in detail as I received 
it — the manner of telling it being mine own. 
To which the immortal Flaxius doth add : — 

"This fable teacheth a great lesson, sir. For as it hath 
been estimated that one man can by his labour maintain 
seven others, so is it true that any two, doing their best in 
simple honest faith, can marvellously assure their mutual 
happiness. And when you meet with any one who has 
nothing but complaint to make of everybody, or hear of a 
man who is always persecuted by relentless foes, and is 
always everywhere a victim of calumny, rest assured that 
such people have never acted on the moral of this tale. 

" *^There are faggots and faggots,' the wise man said, 
Who deeply the book of life had read ; 
* Some which are tied by fastenings stout, 
And some which are loosely lying about.' " 



LEGENDS OF LA VIA DEL CORNO 

" Abutebatur igitur ea etiam in eodem lecto, cubante marito, invisibiliter 
impurissimus ille succubus vel spiritus, et incredibili vexabat libidine." — 
Tractatus de Confessionibus Maleficorum et Sagartim, by Peter Binsfeld, 
Doctor of Theology, 1 596. 

"Sintemal Ubricus Molitor erzehlet das in der Historia des heiligen 
Bernhardi gelesen werde, das ein Teuffel Incubus viele Jahre mit einen 
Weibe gebuhlet, da der Mann in demselben Bette dabey gelegen, welcher 
aber von demselben gottlosen Wesen nichts empfunden noch gemercket 
habe." — Petri Goldschmied's Hexen- und Zauberer-Advocat, 1705. 

" Leporem fecisti." — Father Tom and the Pope. 

"Lepus quasi levi-pes." — Old Saying. 

The Via del Corno is a narrow street which runs from 
the Via del Leone to the Via delle Serve Smarrite. Ac- 
cording to history, it took its name from that of the 
family Del Corno, famous in the days of the Republic, 
which owned this street, and had for coat of arms a 
cornette or small silver horn in an azure field. This 
family was extinguished by the death of Donato di 
Giovanni d'Agostino del Corno in 1693. The police, 
if questioned as to the immediate scene of the story, 
would, if they knew Latin, probably observe with a 
smile, ^^ Diu servabit odorem." It is indeed curious to 
observe that the legend of the horn and of the servant- 
maids who went astray should coincide so curiously with 
the character which the palazzo referred to has borne 
" since time whereof the memory of man runneth not to 
the contrary." 

I give this story, as I did the two preceding, literally 
from the originals as regards incident, though I have told 
in my own manner what would hardly have been worth 
following exactly as it was given : 



LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 



La Via del Corno. 



" The Via del Corno takes its name from corno, a horn, 
which, like corjiuto, signifies a man whose wife is unfaithful 
to him. And of this street are several stories, as there are 
regarding the large house at the end, where what I am going to 
tell took place ; and the lesson which the tale tells is fourfold : 
Firstly, that no man can escape his destiny, as befell II Ciga 
of Siena, who, to escape the prophecy that he would die by 
hanging, tried to drown himself. But certain sailors, seeing 
him struggling in the waves, out of pity threw him a cord, 
which caught round his neck, so that when they drew him out, 
lo ! he was strangled. Secondly, that no one, whatever his 
good fortune or virtues may be, should make too much show 
or boast thereof, lest it should happen to them as it befell 
Beccone di Perugia, who had such a fine house that he must 
needs sit on the roof-tree or ridge thereof, blowing a trumpet 
in the pride of his heart, when there came, alas ! a high wind 
which blew him over and killed him. Thirdly, that when 
a woman gives a man the mitten, or a basket, or cold water, 
or a refusal, she should hand it to him gently, and not throw 
it at his head, else that may happen to her which came to 
Paolo Vitelli, who threw a stone at a man, who caught it in his 
hand and threw it back, so that Vitelli was slain. And fourthly, 
that no woman or man should be utterly condemned for having 
done anything wrong, until we know all about it, since even the 
Calavrese who boiled his grandmother alive in a kettle did so 
believing — as was found out after he had been hanged for 
it — that she would thereby be made young again. All of 
which things are set forth in this story of what befell in the 
house No. I of the Via del Corno. 

" For there dwelt in that house ages ago, or it may be even 
earlier, a handsome man of good estate and great family, who 
had a very beautiful wife, the two being desperately in love 
one with the other, and this love, instead of decreasing with 
time, seemed rather to grow. And truly there was no great 
fault to find with all this, nor would it have been anybody's 
business, if the happy pair had not had such a very unhappy 
and aggravating fashion of intruding their bliss on all their 
less fortunate friends. For they each firmly believed, and 
made great show of their belief, that they were the only faith- 
ful pair in Florence, and treated everybody else as if they 



LEGENDS OF LA VIA DEL CORNO 123 

were shameful sinners, as a matter of course, and all the 
world, as regarded morals and manners, an age behind them. 

" It had happened some time before the marriage of this 
rather too happy couple that the lady had been desperately 
loved by a young gentleman, whom she had refused, and that 
with so many jeers and sneers and causeless cruel mockery, 
that he fell ill and died, although it was believed that there 
was something mysterious in his nature, some declaring that 
he had become a wizard after he had been refused, so that 
in dying he might be revenged on the lady. For it is said 
that witches and the like return to earth to work out revenge 
on those who have treated them cruelly or caused them to 
commit suicide or die. 

" However this may be, when dying he sent for her, and 
said, ' Thou didst treat me cruelly in life, but in death and 
in time to come thou shalt be mine. Now thou art married, 
and thy husband has often mocked me because I failed to 
win thy love, and ridiculed me with his greater fortune, but 
it shall all be the more to your shame. And mark my words, 
thou shalt yet be mine, yet from no love which I bear, but 
out of revenge.' Saying this he died. 

" And very soon after the husband observed that his wife 
was growing pale and miserable, that ;she frequently sighed as 
if she had some great trouble on her mind, and often seemed 
to have been weeping. And when he asked her if she did 
not love him, she repHed, 'Yes, yes, more than ever,' but 
remained as sad as ever, so that he too fell into great trouble. 
And the cause of it was this, that from the day of his death, 
the young man, or his spirit, visited her nightly in dreams, 
compelHng her by some fascination to love and embrace him, 
and treating her as an absolute slave and plaything of passion. 
When she awoke, she was mad with rage at the spirit, and felt 
as furious as she was degraded at the utter humiliations she 
had undergone ; but there was no help for it. And what 
made it worse was, that in her waking hours she loved her 
husband more than ever, and would not tell him of her 
visions, knowing that it could not fail to make him miserable, 
and suspect her fidelity. 

"And to add to all this grief, the young wife found that 
she was about to become a mother, and that most certainly 
by the spirit. All of this show of grief was noted by the 
neighbours and others who had suffered from the arrogance 
of the pair, and as they observed that the wife was miserable 



124 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

as well as about to become a mother, they soon began to 
repeat that the husband was jealous and suspected his spouse. 
So it went on till the Feast of St. Martin was near, and then 
scandal broke out in earnest, for there appeared every morn- 
ing on the walls of the house pictures of hares drawn with 
charcoal, and on the day itself a great pair of ox-horns, with 
the verse : 

" ' Now there comes St. Martin's day, 
Which is, as all men truly say. 

The festival 

Of wittols all 
{La/esfa dei becchi e dei cornuti\ 
Fall in the ranks, as is your duty. 
Remember that you by fate were born 
To live like your friends in the Street of the Horn, 
This is the way of your wife, O friend ! 
This is the way that pride must end. 
As you will see, your lady fair — 

Beware ! Beware ! 
Instead of a son will bring you a hare ! ' 

"And it all came to pass as the writing predicted. For 
when the day came, there was a great crowd in the street 
in anxious anticipation, all whooping and jesting. And the 
expected infant was indeed a full-grown hare, which, escaping 
from the hands of all present, leaped through the window into 
the street, where it dashed away, followed in full cry by all 
the mob, who had a merry chase of it, but never caught the 
animal that ever I heard of; which is not unHkely, considering 
all the circumstances which attended its birth. Nor do I 
know what became of the couple whose pride had such a 
fall ; all that is remembered is that since their time the street 
has been known as the Via del Corno." 

It may very well be observed that, so far as the inci- 
dents are concerned, I might very v^^ell have given this 
legend the go-by, but it contains several items of too 
much interest to have the degree of G.B. thus hastily 
conferred upon it. For though it may be truly said of 
it that, like the cloth of Minuccio, if not long, it is very 
broady yet even in this artistic " breadth " — which I once 
heard it asserted should be the sine qua non of a good 
novel — there are several striking patterns of design. 
The first of these is the belief that a man who has been 



LEGENDS OF LA VIA DEL CORNO 125 

greatly wronged by any one can by dying become an 
avenging spirit. This idea is at the present day so 
current in India, that among all classes nothing is so 
dreaded as that an enemy, by committing suicide, can 
bring, as a Nemesis, all his wrongs upon the one who 
has driven him to despair. Indian tradition abounds 
in legends founded on this faith. 

Again, we have the avenger appearing as a succubus or 
amorous spirit, not in a spirit of love, but of love to hatred 
turned. In the vast literature of demonology and witch- 
craft there is not a single book or treatise in which the 
succubus^ often confounded with the incubus or night- 
mare, is not a prominent figure. On this subject it is 
enough to say that it is interesting to observe that the old 
belief still survives in current ItaHan tradition. 

Why St. Martin should be so curiously identified with 
domestic infidelity is beyond my power of conjecture. 
Yet, for some strange reason, this saint always appears in 
popular tradition as associated with erotic subjects. The 
goose, which is specially a type of productiveness, is 
sacred to him, as Friedrich has set forth in full in his 
Symbolism of Nature. " In the old almanacs St. Martin's 
day is specially designated by the picture of a goose." 
The goose and the hare are identified as symbols not only 
of productiveness, but of watchfulness. Martin, Hke St. 
Antony, who is also a wizard saint, was noted for having 
been tempted by beautiful demons or succubce. 

St. Martin in vulgar tradition appears not only as a 
benevolent saint, who shared his cloak with a beggar, but 
also as a genial bonus socius or boon companion, who loved 
a joke, as is shown by a German song : 

•' Sanct Martin war ein frommer Mann, 
Trank gerne cerevisiam, 
Und halt' er kein pecuniam, 
So liess' er seinen tunicam." 

Yes, everything connected with this reverend saint is 



126 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

merry and jolly. The only adjuration which Abraham a 
Santa Clara makes to him in his Gehabe Dich Wohl 
sermons is, ''What thinkest thou of the clergy, holy 
Martin ? thou who, at the banquet of the Emperor Mar- 
tiani, didst drink to the chaplain before toasting the 
Kaiser!" 

Last of all, this rather ghastly legend ends with a wild 
hunting of the hare, which seems to turn the whole into a 
joke. A hare dashing across the street was, from ancient 
times, an omen of evil. ^' Inauspicatum dat iter oblatus 
lepusT The Rabbis, as Sir Thomas Browne observed in 
his Vulgar Errors^ regarded the hare as such a type of 
lubricity that they forbade its flesh to be eaten, and it is 
remarkable that among the relics of prehistoric races the 
absence of the bones of this animal renders it certain that 
they did not use it for food. It was stricken out of the 
Mosaic menu in order to comply with this ancient and 
inveterate superstitious prejudice. 

^^ Lepus occurrens in via signum futuri periculi,^^ that 
the hare in the way was the sign of danger, was so 
generally beHeved, that Johannes Prsetorius, who was in 
a way the first folk-lorist, devotes a chapter to the sub- 
ject in his Gluckstopfy 1669, which work is a marvellously 
curious and wildly erudite discussion of all the most 
popular superstitions of his time. On which subject the 
shrewd Prsetorius remarks : " Truly, I hold with Zeiler, 
Ursinus, and others of the learned, that 'tis not well to 
see a hare in the road. Verily, 'twere far better roasted 
and on the table." Yet, to give Count Eberhardt von 
Wurtemberg and Martin Luther a fair show, he repeats 
their tales, how the devil appeared to them both in the 
form of hares, ending by shaking his head at it as all 
folly, yet quoting three scholars to prove it. Archelaus, 
Plutarch, and Philostratus all believed that the hare was 
hermaphrodite {vide Sir T. Browne, Vulgar Errors)^ and 
that eating its flesh was very conducive to lasciviousness. 



LEGENDS OF LA VIA DEL CORNO 127 

There are frequent hints of this in the vulgar jests of the 
Middle Ages, and there is probably a re-echo of them in 
this Italian tale. 

There are scores of legends to the effect that witches 
and evil spirits particularly affect the form of hares, and 
one of these, cited by Wolfgang Hildebrand {Goetia vel 
Theurgid) from a writer named Butner {Epitome) j is 
curious enough to be repeated : 

"It befell in Wittenberg in 1572, that the nobles had in 
winter a hunt for hares by night, but for a time saw neither a 
hare nor squirrel. At last they saw one of the former on the 
snow and gave chase. But what was their horror at finding, 
after a time, that they had ridden over the frozen Elbe without 
knowing it. So they thanked God, who had saved the lives of 
the just and pious. And, as soon as they were out of danger, 
the ice broke with a tremendous cracking and noise. Nisi 
Domi?tus justorum vitam^ servasset Leporinus insidias^ id est 
Diabolicas prczstigias et technas amorisset." 

*' Videlicet ! " quoth Flaxius : 

" Four Germans riding on the ice, 
All of a winter's night, 
When Pussy saw them, in a trice 
She scampered out of sight. 

Now had these Deutschers stayed at home, 

Or ridden on dry ground, 

I'll bet a cake they had not come 

So near to being drowned. 

Then here's a health to hunters all ! 
Let us hope the Hare still thrives ; 
Since she was so convivial 
As to save four Dutchmen's lives ! " 



A LEGEND OF THE MEDICI 

"These 
Were Medici, and in their veins the tide 
Of passions ran like pent-up channel seas, 
Whose foamy jaws devour the bulwark wide, 
And haul the labouring frigate on her side." 

Traditions of Tuscany^ by D. Ogilvy. 

A GROUP of houses opposite the Ghetto, now destroyed, 
was regarded as the original dwelling-place of the Medici 
family, and it is possibly to one of these dwellings that 
we may refer the following legends, in which, as in all in 
this work, the story is translated accurately ^ though not 
strictly verbatim^ because the originals, being given just 
as told by very ignorant people, would not bear it. For 
I have not one of these manuscripts in which words are 
not recklessly misspelled and run together in the heat 
of composition, even as glazed sugar cakes often unite 
in the oven; and the author, again, has ''had his own 
time of it" — and no pastime either — in literating all 
this illiteracy, " dundering " at heaped redundancy and 
abridging it, and making cosmos out of chaos — in order 
to be informed by sundry reviewers that he is untruthful 
to his originals, unreliable, and that he ought to have indi- 
cated by quotation-marks wherever Maddalena ceases to 
speak, or where his own betterment begins ! 

A Story of the Medici. 

" There was a lord of the Medici, like many of his name, evil 
at heart in all things, even to going about to find wickedness 

when it did not come to him, a man whose sin began where 

128 



A LEGEND OF THE MEDICI 129 

other men's left off, as became his race and blood, come vengono 
di stirpe. For, while most bad men sacrifice strangers, he found 
victims in his own family, having murdered his wife and laid 
his hand on his own daughter. 

" For in his rage he stabbed or struck this daughter Olympia 
with his sword, and then, believing he had slain her, called 
his jailer and bade him keep the murder a secret and bury 
the body. But this man and his wife, finding that the young 
lady still breathed, restored her to life, treated her with all 
love and kindness, and gave her a chamber where she lived 
unknown to the world. 

" But before long the Signore di Medici felt remorse for the 
murder of his daughter, and suffered by night and day. Now, 
among his other crimes, he had despoiled many Florentines 
of their estates, and those whom he had not slain he kept im- 
prisoned in his palace. Among these was a young gentleman 
named Giannoro, remarkable for his personal attractions, 
accomplishments, and strength of body and mind, a man 
to find a way where there was one, and to make it where 
there was not. Nor did he ever despair, for he was not one 
to believe that God is dead because he could get no dinner. 

"Now the Signore di Medici, so far as he ever cared for 
human beings — which was not to hate them — liked this young 
man, and so, instead of shutting him up in a dungeon, allowed 
him to inhabit an upper room, where he had light and air. 
It befell one day that Giannoro, studying the wall of his 
chamber, thought he perceived in it lines as of a door, and 
ascertained, in fact, that there was one, which had been closed 
with great care, perhaps for ages. So he began to work at 
it, until it finally opened ; and entering it, he found himself 
in another room corresponding to his own, and in the presence 
of a young lady of great beauty, and apparently of as great 
intelligence. Speaking to him, she said : 

" ' You are, I suppose, the Signore Giannoro who is, as I am 
told, confined in the next room. I am the daughter of the 
Signore di Medici ; nor do I beheve that there is in this world 
a child who has more cause to be ashamed of a father, or one 
so unhappy as I am. For that a parent could be viler or 
crueller to his family than he has been is impossible. With 
his own hand, for no cause, he slew my mother, with his sword 
he struck me down, wounded, and believing he had slain me, 
bade his jailer bury me in secrecy. But this man, with more 
mercy than my father, finding that I still lived, did all that 

II I 



I30 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

was possible with his wife to restore me. So they have kept 
me here, and treated me kindly, at the great risk of their own 
lives ; and so I live waiting for the hour when some heavy 
retribution shall fall on my father, for that he will ere long 
be punished for his monstrous crimes I am certain.' 

" The Signore Giannoro replied that he was well assured of 
that, since no man could escape punishment when it was in 
the power of two intelligent persons, who had been cruelly 
injured, to plan ; knowing that they were in the right. For, 
as he said, Z>o/ce cosa e vendicar gtusta onta — ' 'Tis a sweet 
thing to revenge a real wrong ; ' and though it is said : 

" ' Chi vuol giusta vendetta, 
In Dio solo la metta ' — 

" ' He who would a vengeance take, 
God should his avenger make ' — 

yet that, where there was monstrous wrong and fearful 
suffering on one side, it was only doing God's work to end it. 
So these two young people talked together all the time, of 
which they had all there was to a minute every day, and not 
only contrived to fall as deeply in love as ever couple did, 
but by dint of plotting and discussing— ^^ loro facevano niille 
e inille progette — they hit on a plan to attain their liberty and 
properly punish the Signore di Medici, which was worked 
out as follows : 

" The Signore di Medici had a custom of assembling once a 
week, at a supper, all of his prisoners ; truly not out of any 
desire to treat them, but because, being a man of most biting 
and malignant humour, and without his equal in ribaldry and 
sarcasm, he loved to make these poor sufferers the targets 
for the stinging arrows of his wit. For he was in very truth 
un vile in tutti i modi, ed aveva una lingua mordace die neppure 
a lingua Pavrebbe arrivato nessuno — a man infamous in every 
manner and mode, with such a stinging tongue that none could 
answer him. 

" And it was on this very evil gift that Giannoro reckoned 
to master him, so true is it that our talents, when turned to 
villainy, are sure to betray us. At the next supper, when all 
were seated, the Signore di Medici said : 

" ' I dare say that you dogs all wish that some conjurer or 
witch would come and deliver you from your dungeons. Ah, 
ye poor miserable rascals ! there is no such hope for you ; 'twill 
be all aspettar e non venire — waiting for what will never come, 



A LEGEND OF THE MEDICI 131 

if you hope to be set free. I have sworn that ye shall live and 
die as prisoners, in spite of the devil. Truly I have no faith 
in him, nor in witches, for among you all there's never a man 
who can conjure his way out of prison, nor will there ever be. 
Call on the devil, ye poor xyretches — offer your souls ; none of 
ye can escape me.' 

"'Excuse me, Signore Medici,' replied Giannoro; 'one 
may very well be a wizard without knowing how to escape from 
prison. A man may be a good merchant and yet not know 
how to sell elephants. There are in magic, cakes and cakes, 
some of wheat and some of rye. I myself am something of a 
sorcerer, having studied philosophy, and I can penetrate to 
the deepest secrets of the human heart, and read all the 
mysteries of remorse — yes, and give remedies for the sufferer ; 
yet I cannot escape from my bonds. Nay, I can even make 
one rise from the dead, and, if the spirit wills it, bring the 
dead back again to life, yet I never learned how to break 
through stone walls. You yourself, O Signore, are very power- 
ful and clever, yet you know best whether you can do every- 
thing, or whether you have no griefs or sorrows which you 
cannot quell.' 

"When the Signore di Medici heard this he was indeed 
astonished, and said to Giannoro : 

" ' If thou canst tell me what it is that most afflicts me, I 
will give thee thy liberty on the spot.' 

" ' Yea ; and if I were to prove that I knew such a secret,' 
replied Giannoro, ' my life would be taken in an instant. Woe 
to the weak man who lets it be known that he has learned the 
private affairs of great lords ! ' 

" ' Signore Giannoro,' replied the Medici, ' come with me 
into another room.' 

"And when they were there the Signore di Medici said : 

" ' If thou knowest my secret, thou knowest more ; and if 
thou canst do what thou hast declared, thou knowest well that 
I must spare thy life for my own sake.' 

" Then Giannoro said : 

" ' Thou didst slay thy wife, and then didst murder thy 
daughter Olympia. 

" ' And now God holds thee in His hand over hell, ready to 
let thee drop, unless thou be pardoned by the dead. 

" ' And the hours are few, and time flies, and hell yawns 
for thee. 

" ' It were better a million times to be thy meanest prisoner 



132 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

in thy deepest dungeon at this minute than to be the Lord di 
Medici. And small are thy chances of escape.' 

" ' And what chance have I ? ' asked the Signore di Medici. 

" ' If the dead consent I can make one appear even in this 
castle, and perhaps at once. Nay, thou needst not suspect 
that I shall propose to do this thing far away so as to escape 
on the journey. For it is to be thy terrible judgment, O 
Signore, and there lies before thee an awful punishment and 
long penance. Yet the manner and place of the apparition 
depend on the will of the dead, and if that be not complied 
with fully in every detail, then we shall both die. 

" ' For note this well. If thou wilt leave me to order all 
things without hindrance, and I do not raise the dead, then 
slay me forthwith. But beware of hell, O Signore, for if thou 
dost not see the spirit thy life will be brief.' 

" Then the Signore di Medici, who had been greatly awed 
by Giannoro's possession of his secret, consented, and it was 
arranged that in an hour the former should come to the 
prisoner's chamber, and at a given signal evoke his daughter. 
Now the room was dimly lighted, and the Signore waited in 
anxious expectation, when, at the sign made by Giannoro, he 
exclaimed : 

" ' Olympia ! ' 

" When lo ! as it were, through the wall there came the form 
of his daughter, clad in white. In great awe he exclaimed : 

" ' Art thou my daughter ? ' 

" ' I am thy daughter, whom thou didst murder, even as thou 
didst slay my mother.' 

" ' Can I ever be forgiven for the sin ? ' inquired the signore. 

" ' Thou art condemned to hell eternal ; yea, and to such 
punishment as few endure, for there are few so vile as thou 
art, or who have so greatly wearied God with crimes. Yet 
even now thou mayst be spared, and I may be restored from 
death to life ; but for this thou must do penitence to the last 
limit of endurance. And listen to the terms, for with one 
grain less thou canst not escape. 

" ' Firstly, thou shalt set free all thy prisoners. 

" ' Secondly, thou shalt kneel before them all as a slave 
and beg their pardons, and do to the letter whatever they 
shall inflict on thee. 

" ' Thirdly, thou shalt restore to every one in this world 
all that thou hast ever taken from them, to the last quattrino. 

" ' Fourthly, thou shalt become a monk. 



A LEGEND OF THE MEDICI 133 

" * For I have told thee that the penance which thou art to 
endure shall be terrible.' 

"Then the Signore di Medici was in great fear, and pro- 
mised to do all that should be required. 

" With Httle delay he called together his prisoners and said 
to them : 

" ' Until now I have been possessed by a devil ; yes, a devil 
in earnest. Now he has been banned — ora il diavolo sie a 
lontano — and I have repented of my sins. Therefore I set 
you all at hberty, and I beg your forgiveness for all the evil 
I did you. I restore to you all your property. Now do with 
me what you will. I give you the fullest liberty to revenge 
yourselves for the great wrongs which I have done you. God 
forgive me ! Give me in full the punishment which I deserve. 

" ' I will endure the worst with pleasure. Do not spare me.' 

" He said this weeping. 

"Then the gentlemen prisoners consulted, and said, 'The 
hand of God has fallen on him j let us leave him to God.' 

" And they replied : 

" ' We are content with your repentance, and ask for no 
revenge. Give us our liberty and our property again. More 
we do not ask. May God spare you further punishment ! ' 
And there were some of them' who wept. 

"Then the Signore di Medici became a monk, and went 
into the Monastery of La Certosa ; but his remorse was great, 
and after a few months he died. Giannoro married the 
Signorina Olympia, and they amply rewarded the jailer and 
his wife who had been so kind to her. And they lived happily 
and well ever after." 

Of which the moral Flaxius observes : 

" Note, O reader, what a marvellous ordainment it is that 
there should be ever and anon among the great and holy, 
fashionable, divine, sacred, and a /a mode four- hundred folk of 
the earth, certain abominable sinners and atrocious fools — tout 
comme chez 7ious — just like the rest of us common folk ; yea, 
and even worse, and in greater proportion to numbers, they 
having more facility to do whate'er they will. For if this were 
not the case — nay, if our Betters and Leaders were not even 
far more prone than we are to break the Seventh, et ccztera^ 
one might tremble with apprehension and terror to think of 
the awful power they would hold and the irresistible influence 



134 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

which they would acquire by all setting good moral examples ! 
For, as it is, they are worshipped as were the gods of old ; and 
there may be too much of a good thing — even piety. For which 
reason, indeed — as a lofty pile of philosophers have declared — 
Jupiter and Venus and the rest were allowed far more frolick- 
ing — or froh-locken — than is allotted to mortals, lest reverence 
should lunacy become ! Qiiod erat de??tonstrandui?i ! " 



THE PEBBLES OF THE ARNO 

** With veiled heads and tunics girt they go, 
And pebbles backwards o'er their shoulders throw, 
Which stones— who would believe it ? — then grew warm, 
And soft, and then assumed a human form. " 

— Ovid, Metamorphoses^ i. ii. 

" Tamen una recepit 
Parva quidem, stipulis, et canna tecta palustri : 
Sed pia Baucis anus, parilique setate Philemon, 
Ilia sunt annis juncti juvenilibus." 

— Ovid, Metamorphoses, viii. 15. 

" Da Pirra e dal consorte foro 
Le fatal pietre dopo il tergo sparte, 
Onde il genere uman fu ricovrato, 
Stuol duro e alle fatiche avezzo e nato." 

— Tasso, Rinaldo, c. 9. 

Something of old mythologic tradition, which has pro- 
bably escaped from books and schoolboys, appears now 
and then in peasant tales, and in the following we have 
such a fragment, very quaintly mingled with fairy-lore 
and common sorcery. The plaintive wailing of the 
pebbles by moonlight is a very striking fancy. The 
whole is translated verbatim : 

" Long, long ago, in the country where Florence now stands, 
and far about, all was a waste without inhabitants, save one 
small house or hut, wherein dwelt a good old couple. Of 
these, the husband's name was Bacco, and that of his wife 
Filomena, and they would have been quite contented but for 
one thing, that they were so lonely ; for whether it was caused 
by war or pestilence truly I know not, but they had not a 
single neighbour. Perhaps they came there the first before 
anybody ; in any way, all the land was to let for nothing, and 
there were no applicants for it. 

"Now, it came to pass that Jesus Christ came with St. 
Peter into this lonely country, wherein they walked for three 

135 



136 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

days seeing nothing living, unless it were a wolf or fox now 
and then, till, on the third evening, they came to the cabin of 
Bacco, and St. Peter knocked at the door. 

"When the good couple saw two strangers they were de- 
lighted, and made them welcome, treating them like friends ; 
and Bacco, who had nothing in the world but a lamb, went 
out to kill it, to make a feast for his guests. 

" But our Lord said to him : ' Wait a little.' 

" And in that minute there happened a wonderful thing, for 
the lamb brought forth another, which grew immediately to 
the same size as its mother. 

" 'Take the younger,' said St. Peter. 'We will eat that' 

" ' And every day henceforth the mother shall bring forth a 
lamb, which will also grow in two seconds to full size.' 

" Then Filomena had but one loaf of bread, but when she 
would cut it, what she took away grew again. And thus it 
was with the wine ; and St. Peter said : 

" ' So shall it be ; since ye have been hospitable, ye shall not 
lack meat, bread, or wine while ye live. Unto him who gives 
there shall be given. And if there is aught else which ye 
desire, speak while it is time.' 

" Then Bacco said : 

" * Not for myself do I ask aught. But it seems to me to 
be a pity that so good and fair a country as this is should be 
without inhabitants.' 

" Then our Lord said : 

"*Go thou with thy wife to the bank of the Arno and 
gather many pebbles, as much as ye can bear. 

" * Then walk straight forward, and ye shall both cast the 
pebbles one by one over your shoulders, but take heed that 
in so doing ye do not turn your heads nor look behind, and 
keep repeating these words : 

Invocazione alle Pietre. 



(( ( 



O Pietre, grigie e dure ! 
Che venite dai luoghi oscuri ! 
Non sarete adoprati per muri, 
Invece di voi case fabbricare 
Avrete case da abitare 
Sarete tutti uomini e donne 
Con diversi, belli nomi, 
Uno Adamo, una Gianna, 
Uno Pietro, I'altra Anna, 
Con I'aiuto delle Fate, 
Alzatevi e destate ! ' 



THE PEBBLES OF THE ARNO 137 

Invocation to the Stones. 

** * O river stones so hard and grey, 
Washed here from places far away I 
Built into walls ye shall not be ; 
You have a different destiny. 
Instead of making houses, well, 
Ye shall yourselves in houses dwell ; 
For men and women ye must be, 
With different names, as all will see. 
One shall be Adam, one Gianna, 
One a Pietro — t'other Anna, 
With fairy aid and no delay, 
Rise into life ! Awake, I say ! ' 

" So they did this, and the stones became men and women, 
and these were the first inhabitants of the Val d'Arno and of 
Florence, but it was by Fiesole that this took place. 

" Then the Lord changed the cabin of Bacco into a church, 
wherein He preached to the people; and of the shed by it 
He made a convent for nuns, of which Filomena became the 
Abbess. 

" Now it is said that those stones which were not changed 
into men and women greatly lament their hard fate, not being 
content as they are. And he who will listen by night, when 
the moon is full and shines on them, can hear them complain- 
ing or singing as with the voices of little children, and saying, 
' Is it not time for us, also, to become men and women ? ' 

"Now there is a magic virtue in these pebbles, and when 
they are conjured by the proper ceremony, they may be made 
to speak and disclose wonderful secrets, and the manner of it 
is this : 

"Take a pebble from the Arno, and wash it well with 
wine in the names of St. Peter, Bacco, and Santa Filomena, 
and say : 

** * Pietra ! Pietra ! Pietra in mano 

Vi tengo come voi volete essere umana. 

Ti scongiuro di parlare, 

Dimmi dove e un tesoro, 

Sia d'argento, sia d'oro ; 

E qualunque mia domanda 

Ti prego di parlar al comando.' 

" * Stone, O Stone ! as thou'dst be human, 
Living as a man or woman. 
By thy hope I conjure thee, 
Give an answer unto me, 



138 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Tell me of some treasure old, 
Be't of silver or of gold, 
And there reveal where it is hid, 
Answering truly as thou'rt bid.' 

" Then the stone will answer with the voice of a little child 
replying to all questions ; and this must be done while the full 
moon shines upon the stone, and only then." 

"'Tis a marvellous thing to note," adds Flaxius, "how in all 
lands, 'mid men of every race, all seem to seek their origin in 
stones. Was this derived from the very natural idea that the 
Gods descended from the Giants, who were initially mountains 
or mighty rocks, or hinted by the foundation-stone whereon 
the House — typically Man — rests ? Even the Oneida Indians 
have a stone which was their father — very probably the same 
tradition attached to that which is in the Coronation-chair, 
which was carried about, possibly at first from Carthage in 
earliest days. And last, not least, we have the Roman Church 
and its rock Peter — Peirus es et super hanc petram cedificabo 
ecclesiam meum.^^ 



LA TORRE DEI RICCI OF LA VIA SANTA 
ELISABETTA 



The goblin who from days of yore 

Hath ever watched a golden store, 

Hidden with awful mystery, 

And shut away by sorcery, 

In some old tower, or buried cell, 

Or fairy mound, or mossy well, 

Until no more in night concealed 

All to the heir shall be revealed."— C. G. L. 



The Ricci were a family in the old time in Florence, 
who, as their name betokens, were extremely wealthy, so 
that they owned several s^treets, palaces, and towers, the 
latter of which determined of itself their claim to power, 
wealth, and nobility. For as in Sicily the Nuraghi^ or 
citadel- towers, were the necessary retreats of every one, 
so in all the Italian cities of the Middle Ages every head 
of a clan or of a large family was strictly obliged to own 
one or more such places of refuge. 

It is pleasant to read, as the Calendario expresses it, of 
the Ricci, " that if their buildings give an idea of the vast 
wealth of this family, the pages of History also abound in 
proofs of their great virtue." Therefore it was with grati- 
fication that I learned from a legend of the people that the 
memory of this great and benevolent family is perpetu- 
ated as having left to Florence an immense heritage which 
is some day to be divided among all the dwellers therein 
impartially, when the city shall have attained the acme of 
its prosperity, or be in dire need ! As is fully explained 

in the following admirable story, translated verbatim : 

139 



I40 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

The Tower of the Ricci. 

"This tower is at the corner of the Via Santa Elisabetta, 
at the beginning of the Via dei Ricci. Though it has been 
modernised, it may still be recognised. And all the Via Santa 
Elisabetta, as well as the Via dello Studio, once belonged to 
the family of the Ricci. 

*' It is said that they buried under this tower a mysterious 
or enchanted treasure, which is to remain there till the day 
shall come when there will be the greatest need of it, or when 
there is the most misery in Florence. 

"This treasure is guarded by a Red Dwarf, who is often 
seen after midnight walking in su e in giu, up and down before 
the Tower dei Ricci, seeming as if he were waiting for the 
coming of some one, the proof whereof is that he from time 
to time stops some passer-by, and asks him if he has seen a 
noble cavalier mounted on a fine white horse. 

" This dwarf is a folletto or goblin, and it is his duty to 
guard the treasure, and till it is discovered he can have no 
rest — Non puole andare in pace sua. 

" The discovery of the treasure is to be made by a grand 
signore, who will come from afar off, riding a magnificent 
white horse. He will arrive at midnight on Christmas Eve, 
and stop before the church ; dismounting, he will give the reins 
to the Red Dwarf to hold, and entering the Tower, will take the 
treasure. 

"The Cavalier of the White Horse will then consign the 
gold to the care of the (chief of the) most ancient family in 
Florence ; and this latter will distribute it and relieve Florence 
from great misery, causing much joy, inducing all to bless the 
name of the Ricci, who, dying, were so benevolent. And when 
this shall be done the Red Dwarf will have peace, and be no 
more seen." 

What somewhat conflicts with this story is a legend to 
the effect that the treasure grows or diminishes with the 
prosperity of Florence, and that it is to be distributed 
when at its maximum. Political economists are of the 
opinion that this will never come to pass until after the 
abolition of the dogana, or city-gate taxes. It may be 
observed that the White Horse signifiies victory, success, 
or prosperity, but not till after long waiting and delay. 



LA TORRE DEI RICCI 141 

Thus Crescentius was to come, after many years, on 
the White Horse, and set Rome free from tyranny. 
Death on the Pale Horse is the final victory over all evil. 
To see a white horse, suddenly, when one is in trouble, 
presages that the affliction will pass away, and be suc- 
ceeded by joy, but not immediately. There is a vast 
amount of traditional lore confirming all this. 



THE STORY OF THE VIA BELLA MORTE 

" Oggi in figura, 

E doman in sepoltura." — Italian Proverb. 

*' Thou hast deserted me and made the tomb 
Thy bridal bed — and I beside your feet 
Will lie and watch ye from my winding-sheet, 
Thus — wide awake though dead." 

— Shelley, Jtilian and Maddalo. 

As there are in Florence the streets of Hell, Purgatory, 
Limbo, and the Skeleton, it may be supposed that one of 
Death, or a Via delta Morte, is not wanting. It is asso- 
ciated with a story of Boccaccio, which is so well known, 
and so much like others in other lands, that I at first 
thought of passing it over, but as it may be expected in 
such a work as this, I give it place. 

The Via dell a Morte leads from the Piazza del Duomo 
to the Via Calzaioli, and is beyond the Misericordia. In 
the year 1343, when there were fierce conflicts in Flor- 
ence between the nobility and popolani, or populace, there 
was among the latter a young man named Antonio Rondi- 
nelH, who loved and was beloved by Ginevra di Almieri, of 
the patrician class. That her father refused his assent to 
such a match is in the usual dramatic course of events, 
and he also obliged her to marry a nobleman named 
Francesco Agolanti. 

Then came the horrible plague of 1400, and Ginevra 
being attacked by it, became insensible, and was sup- 
posed to be dead. There was little delay in burial in 
those times, and the supposed corpse was hurried into 

the family vault between the cathedral and the campanile, 

142 



THE STORY OF THE VIA DELL A MORTE 143 

just below the bas-relief of Orpheus playing on a lute. 
The rest of the tale is told in the following verses, in 
which I have followed the popular prose narrative, as it 
is related among the people and in divers story-books : 

" And then at midnight, coming to her mind, 
Ginevra Agolanti saw the moon, 
Which shone through a small opening overhead, 
And dumb with terror, looking round her, found 
That she was lying in a funeral vault, 
A dweller in the silent home of Death. 

Yet strength was still in body, more in mind. 
After long work she burst the bandages 
Wrapped all about her, and then raised the stone 
Above the vault, and so escaped the tomb ; 
And yet, escaped, was still in cruel case. 
Alone at midnight, far away from home. 

She turned her steps at once unto the house, 
Passed by the way which ever since that time 
Is known in Florence as the Street of Death, 
In memory, as 'tis said, of this event, 
An4 knocking at the cioor, cried out aloud : 
' I am Ginevra — open unto me ! 
Open in haste, or I shall die again. 
Open, I say, for I am here alive.' 

And then her husband, half in deadly fear. 
And half in anger, answered : ' Get thee gone ! 
Thou art a Strega, or some spirit vile, 
Who hast inspired the corpse or taken the form 
Of her who was my wife, and now is dead ! 
Who die in God do not return to earth ; 
Therefore, thou thing of evil, get thee gone ! ' 

And all aghast the lady went her way 
Unto her father's house by San Andrea, 
In the Mercato Vecchio, and there 
She was repulsed again with bitter words. 
And passing to the Calzaioli, sat 
Upon the steps of San Bartholomew, 
And meditating, 'mazed, said to herself: 
* Can it be true that I am really dead ? 



144 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

And have I but the semblance of a form ? 
And is this but a memory of a mind 
Wherewith I think I think as once I thought ? 
And am I but a phantom in the land ? 

One place remains for me, and only one, 
Where they may think I am a living thing : 
The house of Rondinelli, he who loved — 
The only one who ever loved me well — 
There is my last resort.' And there she went, 
And knocking once again, wailed out aloud : 
' I am Ginevra Agolanti — I 
Have risen from the dead, yet was not dead, 
And come unto thee as the dead do go 
Unto a better life. Oh, let me in ! 
Indeed I am not dead, my own dear love ! ' 

And Rondinelli, hearing this, replied : 
' Be thou a devil ox folletto dire, 
Whoever thou mayst be, wearing that form 
And speaking with that voice, I'll let thee in, 
For here I ween is some strange mystery. 
He who, like me, has lost all love for life 
Has little cause to fear a shape of death.' 
And saying this, he opened wide the door, 
And took her by the hand and led her in 
Unto his parents, and they heard the tale — 
And from that hour she never left him more." 

It is added to this narrative that the tribunals of 
Florence decided in this case that, as Ginevra Agolanti 
had been dead and buried, and received the last rites of 
the Church, and as her husband had refused to receive 
her, her marriage was annulled, and she was effectively 
divorced. Of which decision (according to Boccaccio) she 
availed herself to marry Rondinelli. 

The reader will probably recall that Shelley left an 
unfinished poem on this subject in his fragment of 
Ginevra (Poems of 1821). 

This tale has always been beloved by the people in 
Florence, and one of the most popular halfpenny or soldo 



THE STORY OF THE VIA BELLA MORTE 145 

works, to be found at many a corner, is the Storia di 
Ginevra degli Almieri che fu Seppellita per Morta in 
Firenze. It is a pamphlet ( Tipographiay Adriano Salani, 
Via le Militare, No. 24, 1893), and poem of 488 lines, 
ending with the words : 

" Visser cosi gran tempo in festa e gloria 
E con questo qui termina Tistoria." 

"And so they lived long time in joy and glory, 
And so with that here I do end my story." 

"Wherein I note," the learned Flaxius adds, "that as the 
tenderest tale of truest love or maddest tragedy e'er played by 
man cannot be unto Nature accurate unless some gleam of 
humour lie therein — as rabbits play in churchyards o'er the 
dead — so in this tale Ginevra degli Almieri was only allowed 
to marry Signore Rondinelli on the ground that she had really 
died, and was de facto, and of course, extinct, because she 
had received the last rites of the Church, which, of course, 
made her as dead as a doornail, or a doorpost, or a drowned 
mouse, or a dried herring, or any other popular synonym for 
mortality. Wherein she was in the same predicament as our 
noble friend Sir Charles Coldstream, who found himself dead 
in the eye of the law, although he was in reality alive and 
kicking — yea, and not only kicking, but hammering the black- 
smith, Mr. Firebrace, ad libitum. That is, Ginevra was corpsed 
according to logic ecclesiastical : the funeral service is only 
read over the dead — that service had been read over Ginevra ; 
therefore she had died. Which kind of reasoning, I regret to 
say, is found to this day in full bloom in English law. John 
Doe, perfectly innocent, is by circumstantial evidence found 
guilty of murder ; but he cannot be set at liberty except by 
special grace and a pardon from Her Majesty — for a crime 
which he never committed, but of which he ever remains 
adjudged guilty by the very pardon itself ! 

" Great is the wisdom with which mankind is governed.'* 



II 



THE DEAD RETURNED TO LIFE 

A LEGEND OF THE VIA DEGLI ARCHIBUSIERI, OR THE 
STREET OF THE CROSSBOW-MEN, IN FLORENCE 

" They found Ginevra dead I if it be death 
To lie without motion or pulse or breath, 
With waxen cheeks, and limbs cold, stiff, and white, 
And open eyes, whose fixed and glassy light 
Mocked at the speculation they had owned ; 
If it be death when there is felt around 
A smell of clay, a pale and icy glare. 
And silence." 

— Ginevra, a Frag7nent^ by P. B. Shelley. 

The tale of Ginevra and the Street of Death suggested 
to Maddalena that there was another legend of a revival 
not unUke it or of the same kind, which she, after due 
inquiry, gave as follows : — 

" There was once a rich gentleman, who lived in a house in 
the Via degli Archibusieri. And at one time there appeared, 
and came to dwell in his family, a young lady who seemed to 
be some relation, but of whom nothing was said, and she her- 
self seemed to do all in her power to escape observation or 
remark, which was not easy, since her beauty was such as to 
attract notice anywhere. Yet she was withal extremely pale, 
and looked like one who had suffered long and terribly. 

" One evening there came to supper in the family a gentle- 
man, who looked frequently and very earnestly at the young 
lady, as if with awe, but said nothing. And when the meal 
was at an end, the lady, having an opportunity to speak to the 
visitor, said : 

" ' It seems to me, sir, that you must know me, from the air 
of astonishment with which you looked at me.' 

" ' Truly, I may well say that I know you ; nor is it a wonder 

146 



THE DEAD RETURNED TO LIFE 147 

that I am astonished, since, when I last saw you, you were 
lying dead in your coffin in Milan.' 

" ' I beg you to guard my secret well,' replied the lady ; ' for 
it is of life and death to me. And I will tell the tale to you 
in full. 

" ' When my father died he left a very large fortune, making 
an uncle, who was almost my last living relation, my guardian. 
This uncle has a son, and both are infamously wicked men, 
though they concealed the evilness of their souls, by hypocrisy, 
from my father. 

" ' His son, my cousin, was, however, more open and brutal 
in his vice. It was agreed between the pair that I must marry 
this cousin, or else, as accident revealed to me, be put to 
death by poison. And this would have been my ultimate fate 
in any case, for their whole object was to get my property. 

"'I suffered untold misery from the tyranny of the father 
and the love-making of my cousin, which was the more 
intolerable because I was secretly betrothed to a gentleman 
worthy all regard and respect. And nothing could be done, 
because my uncle is a man of such power and authority as to 
be above the law. 

" ' After one year my sufferings became intolerable, and I 
was at last plainly threatened with torture and death unless I 
yielded. Then my lover — who is the son of this gentleman 
in whose house we now are — arranged with me a plan of 
escape. My betrothed is a learned man, and he contrived, 
as a physician, to make himself welcome in my uncle's house ; 
and getting into his confidence, and by pretending to be as 
wicked as himself, he at last brought it to pass that my uncle 
offered him a large sum if he would take my life by poison, 
to be administered as medicine. 

" ' My uncle fell into the trap. I pretended to be ill, and 
at last to die. Then my lover and doctor, who had all ready 
and at hand a corpse, or the semblance of one, in a coffin, 
put on its face a wax mask perfectly like my face, prepared 
with the greatest care by a distinguished artist, so that no one 
who beheld it doubted that it was I. And to aid in the 
deception, my lover cautioned all against touching me, saying 
that I had died of the plague and must be buried at once, 
whence it came to pass that only a few friends, among whom 
you were one, were present at the last prayer. Nor were the 
uncle and nephew less anxious to get me in haste out of the 
way, for my lover had told them that the trace of the poison 



148 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

was perceptible in my wax-like complexion, which appearance 
is, indeed, very often the result of certain kinds of poison. 

" ' Meanwhile I, dressed as a page, with my face darkened 
and with false hair, walked boldly away with the physician, 
who brought me here to his uncle, a most worthy gentleman, 
and I have since then lived unknown in Florence. Cosi tutti 
credidero che io fossi morta — and thus it came to pass that 
all believed that I was dead. But in a short time I shall be 
of age and married, and free from further persecution. And 
I truly thank you, signore, for having said nothing when you 
recognised me.' 

" And not long after, the signore learned that the lady had 
indeed married and recovered all her property. Nor was 
this all, for her husband and his friends boldly pursued the 
uncle and nephew in every way, making known their infamous 
conduct, till they fell into general contempt and disgrace; 
and losing their authority, they found enemies and accusa- 
tions of crime springing up around them like armed men — 
the end thereof being that they came to the block or gallows, 
and the greater portion of their immense property passed to 
the niece whom they had sought to ruin. So it befell in 
the end that those who would have ruined were themselves 
brought to ruin, and instead of ravening — 

" ' Returned like ravens from a corpse whereon 
A vulture has just feasted to the bone.' " 



LEGENDS OF THE FOUNTAIN OF THE 
CHIASSO DEL BUCO 

*'Non tamen ^geriae luctus aliena lavare, 
Damna valent, mentis que jacens radicibus imis, 
Liquitur in lacrimas, donee pietate dolentis 
Mota soror Phoebi gelidum de corpore fontem 
Fecit, et seternas actus tenuavit in undas." 

— Egeria changed to a Fountain. 

Ovid, Metam., xv. lo. 

The Chiasso del Buco, or Lane of the Hole, as it may 
be translated, is a very fit term (nomen et omen) for the 
place as it at present exists, being, in fact, a very small 
slum of repulsive appearance, not unlike a hole, which is 
entered by a very narrow passage in the Via Vacchereccia, 
or just between the Piazza della Signoria and the Via Por 
San Maria, while the other end opens in the Via Lam- 
bertesca. " It was so called from the family Del Buco, 
which was greatly honoured in Florence." A ray of its 
good report appears in the ensuing story of — 

The Stone by the Fountain in the Chiasso del Buco. 

" There was, in ancient times, in Florence a gentleman who 
was not only wealthy and wise, but also winsome in his ways 
and attractive in person, his name being the Signore Mardi,^ 
and over and above all these advantages, he had a truly good 
heart, which caused him to be loved by all who knew him. 

" This signore was in mutual love with a young lady of good 

family, named Anaisa, who had a very intimate friend named 

Giurguna, both being famed for beauty and accomplishment. 

And Anaisa, who was as good and true as she was charming, 

had a very sincere love for Giurguna, which would have been 

sadly diminished had she known that the latter was not only a 

witch, but that she had fallen desperately in love with Mardio, 

149 



ISO LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

and was determined to win him. And the witch had two 
advantages, one being that she was perfectly able to play the 
hypocrite and not betray herself, well knowing that Cki sa 
tacere e padron de gli altri — ' He who can hold his tongue will 
anon hold others;' and, secondly, that she could bide her 
time, believing that ' he who can wait will win sooner or late.' 
And meanwhile she studied every point, and turned over all 
the resources which her witchcraft gave her, till she hit on a 
scheme which, as we shall see, was certainly as ingenious as it 
was strange. 

" At last the day came when Mardio was to be married to 
Anaisa, and Giurguna had never before shown herself so 
affectionate and kind to her friend, or so deeply interested in 
anything as this bridal. And on the early morning of the 
day, she came to Anaisa with a very beautiful ivory casket, 
covered with carving representing lovers and Cupids and 
flowers — a thing of great value — and said : 

" ' My darling friend, I bring thee for a wedding gift this 
scatola or box, which, however, contains something which I 
dare to say is of inestimable value, since I would not give 
thee on such an occasion anything which was not, so great 
is my love for thee. In it there is a mirror of such magic 
power that whoever looks in it will be for that day irresistibly 
beautiful, and secure the love of her husband beyond all fear. 
But to effect this, the mirror must be kept a secret from all 
the world, and only be looked at privately, else it will lose 
all its power and become like any other. But by keeping 
it secret and looking into it daily, you will remain young and 
beautiful for ever.' 

"And here the witch told the truth, for whoever looked 
into it would indeed remain for ever young, but as a statue, 
for the one who did so became at once petrified into a figure 
of pure marble if good, or changed to a rude stone if evil. 

"And then Anaisa, wishing to look her best and charm 
Mardio to the utmost, just before the ceremony went into 
her room, locked the door, and taking out the mirror, 
looked into it, when she at once became a statue of pure 
white marble. But the glass, which was enchanted, at once 
fell back into the casket, which closed; and Giurguna, who 
was on the watch, listening, entered by a window, secured 
the casket, and retreated undiscovered. 

" When the bridegroom and wedding-guests were assembled, 
there was much astonishment at the non-appearance of the 



THE FOUNTAIN OF THE CHIASSO DEL BUCO 151 

bride, until, their patience being exhausted, Mardio himself 
burst open the door of her room and entered. Great indeed 
was his amazement at finding Anaisa in all her nuptial robes, 
but a white statue of marble; and as great for a long time 
was the wonder over this thing in Florence, it being generally 
believed that the lady had swallowed some potion which had 
turned her into stone. Then the dead and yet imperishable 
form being given to Mardio, he placed it in a cabinet, where 
he sat for hours looking at it. 

" Looking at it indeed, but studying meanwhile, sometimes 
in books, and sometimes engaged in tracing out clues and 
trains of thought ; for he was not only very learned in all things, 
but also gifted with a subtle genius, so that if he could but 
grasp the tip of the tail of the most slippery serpent of an idea, 
he was sure in the end to hold it by the neck and draw its 
fangs. And first of all, he learned from a book of magic that 
there were arts by which people could be petrified, and that 
there were great refinements of deceit by which those who 
practised such deeds concealed them. Secondly, he began to 
detect in Giurguna una certa fintaggine — a certain trace of 
trickery and falsehood, which revealed the nature of a witch, 
and following up this clue, concluded from other signs that 
she was truly a sorceress. Anci, finally, he found that the petri- 
faction had certainly been accomplished by means of a mirror. 

" Now, when a man of genius sets himself to work, even in 
magic, he will advance further in a day than any woman can in 
a month, though she have all the trickery of the devil in her ; 
and the end of it all was, that Mardio brought his suspicions 
almost to a certainty, and resolved to stick at nothing to find 
out the whole truth and to be revenged. At last he consulted 
with another witch who was his devoted friend, and confided 
to her all his suspicions ; and she, after reflecting, said : 

" ^ The Signorina Giurguna is certainly guilty, and I can give 
you the means of proving it. Here in this vial is a powerful 
perfume, and if a woman be a witch, and she should smell it 
while asleep, she must answer truthfully all questions put to 
her. Now do as you think best.' 

" Mardio had long observed that. Giurguna was willing to 
marry him, which fact had, indeed, guided his suspicions. 
Therefore he lost no time in making love to her, the end 
being that they were married, she never dreaming what he had 
in his mind. And on the wedding-night, when the bride fell 
asleep, he uncorked the vial, which gave out a very pungent 



152 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

and peculiar perfume, and putting it to her nose, at once 
perceived that she was under its influence. Then he asked 
her: 

" ' Wert thou not the one who turned Anaisa to marble ? ' 

" ' Yes,' replied Giurguna. ' I did so out of jealousy, be- 
cause I was in love with thee.' 

" ' How didst thou do it ? ' 

" ' With a mirror,' replied the witch, still sleeping. 

" ' And where is this mirror ? ' asked Mardio. 

" ' It is in an ivory box, which is in my coffer.' 

" Then Mardio sought in her coffer, and found the casket, 
and taking care not to look at the mirror himself, and with 
averted eyes, held it before the face of Giurguna, and said 
to her : 

" ' Awake, thou accursed witch ! ' 

"She awoke, and seeing herself in the mirror, at once became, 
not a statue of marble, but a rude stone or column. And in 
that instant the spell was removed from Anaisa, and she be- 
came human and living as before. 

"The tale (as it was written for me) adds that the beautiful 
Anaisa learned from this that no one should trust implicitly to 
people who display an excess of love for no apparent cause, 
and to frequently reflect on the old proverb : 

*" Se vuoi vivere e star bene, 
Prendi il mondo come viene.' 

*" If you would live and be free from wrong, 
Take the world as it comes along.' 

" As for the petrified Giurguna, she was set up in the Chiasso 
del Buco, by the fountain, where the pillar may be seen to 
this day." 

There is also a legend of a very different character, 
referring to this mysterious fountain, which is as follov^^s : 



Chiasso del Buco. 

"In the Chiasso del Buco, which is so called from the 
family Del Buco which dwelt there, is a fountain by which 
stands a stone pillar, and there is a strange tale how they both 
came into this place. 

" Once, in the old times, there was in the summer a terrible 



THE FOUNTAIN OF THE CHIASSO DEL BUCO 153 

want of water in Florence, and at a time when the city was 
besieged by an enemy. For not only was the Arno dried up, 
but even all the wells ; nor was there any rain for weeks, so 
that the poor suffered terribly, and many died. 

"However, there was a fountain in the courtyard of the 
Medici which would have given enough water for all Florence, 
but the Grand Duke would not give away a drop, but sold 
it all for five soldi a bucketful — a cinque soldi la secchia. 

"One day the beautiful Signorina Angela del Buco came 
before the Duke, to beg him to have mercy on the people, 
per pieta e misericordia — for mercy and pity's sake. 

" ' I beg your Highness,' said the Signorina, ' to be more 
humane to the poor and give them water without a price, 
for many of them have no money at all.' 

"The Duke Cosimo replied, laughing, 'Truly no one can 
say with the proverb, Di questa acqua non voglio here — "Of 
this water I will never drink" — for everybody seems to be 
eager enough to get some of it. No, indeed. Qui prende 
paga — he who drinks must pay, be it for water or wine. But 
there is a price for it which you can easily pay. Give me 
yourself and I will supply the people with water.' ^ 

" The young lady reddened with shame and rage at hearing 
such language, and walked a^ay; but when she came to the 
fountain. she burst into tears and said : 

" ' What a pity that thou art here and not elsewhere ! ' 

" A beautiful spirit, ox fata ^ rose from the water and said : 

"'And why?' 

" ' Because the Grand Duke has no compassion on the 
poor, and sells this water to people who are dying of thirst, 
and cares not that there are little children and babes perishing 
in misery in all Florence. And he has made to me a vile 
offer — I would rather die a thousand times than accept it; 
and yet it were better for the people that I did so, and I will 
to spare their sufferings, and then die. But all this might be 
spared were this fountain elsewhere.' 

" * Where wouldst thou place it ? ' said the fata. 

"'In our Chiasso del Buco,' replied the young lady; 'and 
if it were there, I would give its water to every one, without 
money and without price.' 

" ' Siafatta 1 It shall be done,' said the fairy. 

^ In the original, "Datemi la vostra verginita, ed io daro I'acqua ai 
popoli. E quando io apriro la tua piccola tuca (a proverbial saying) Signo- 
rina del Buco tranquillezero molti quori." 



154 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" And in the morning, when the Grand Duke awoke, his ser- 
vants told him that the spring had dried up in the fountain in 
his court, and he raged and cursed in full measure to hear it, 
but, as the proverb says, ' what went away on the torrent never 
returns on the wind.' 

" But when the signorina looked from her window she saw 
a great crowd of happy people all drinking from a stone foun- 
tain which had mysteriously risen in the night, and the truth 
was already known to them that it was owing to the prayers 
and benevolence of the signorina that this had been done ; and 
they all blessed her like a saint. 

"Then the Signorina Angela had a column placed close by 
the fountain, which is to be seen to this day ; and this is the 
Sasso della Fata, or Fairy's Stone, in which the spirit still 
dwells. 

" He or she who would have good fortune should touch this 
stone or column, and cast some of the water of the fountain on 
it and say : 

*' ' Bellissima donna 

Che stai nella Colonna, 
Ti prego per favore 
Fortuna e onore, 
Fortuna ed amore, 
A ti tutto I'onore ! ' 

" Then one should take some of the water in a vial or bottle, 
and keep it in great honour, or with care, and taste of it when 
in need, or making a prayer for aught, because in all Italy 
there is not a fountain so wonderful or effective as this of the 
Chiasso del Buco. He or she who drinks of it with faith will 
have good luck while in Florence ; on those who drink it with- 
out such belief it will have no effect. A vial of it carried 
while travelling will ensure the bearer from accidents, or render 
the journey prosperous and pleasant. 

"And it is also said that if you take a cup of this water and 
make a wish, and then carefully place* a pin or a needle on the 
surface, should it float even an instant before sinking, you will 
get your wish should you repeat in sincerity the invocation 
above given. ^ 

1 Many believe, however, that this is true of all fountains, springs, or 
holy wells in which a spirit ox fata dwells ; and some think that all have 
such fairies, but those are peculiarly beneficent who have been most 
sought, honoured, or gifted with offerings ; even such as pins or small 
coins, so that the proper scongiurazione be reverently uttered. Therefore 
the public fountains in great cities are thought to have great efficacy. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF THE CHIASSO DEL BUCO 155 

" That fountains, rivers, ponds, or ditches have been trans- 
ferred by supernatural power, even from distant lands, was 
believed in ancient times, as illustrated by the following 
extract from the Ahderites of Wieland," writes Flaxius. 

" ' O Sir High Priest ! ' said Democritus, ' pray tell the 
stranger the legend of the frogs, and how it befell that the 
Holy Ditch was carried over the Ionian Sea from Lycia, which, 
as you know, is a tolerably long stretch for aerial transport 
over land and water, and which is — if one may say it — almost 
a greater miracle than the transformation of the Lycian 
peasants into frogs. ' 

" Which work by Wieland is to my mind and taste — such 
as they are — the first book of its kind (which kind, indeed, doth 
all rare kinds embrace) of this century. For as the highest 
mission in life is to annul the Philistine and defeat the Duffer, 
and as this book of the Abderites is in some wise the Gospel 
of this holy faith, therefore do I commend it unto the Faithful, 
or Enlightened, or Illuminated CosmopoHte, or Mooskopfolite^ 
as German students anagrammatise the word, as a composi- 
tion of marvellous consolation, and one wherein the common 
enemy is shown up in all his or her poor, paltry, pitiful con- 
temptibility as in no other t^hat is known to me. Now it 
hath been said that ''Relations are the common enemies of 
the human race,' and truly the Philistines are so numerous, 
being well-nigh in every family, that to regard them as our 
foe, or to hope to convert them, is like the prayer of the 
American coloured clergyman which was offered for ' de wite 
element in our midst' And yet — Hope ever!" 



THE STORY OF EVANDRO THE FOOL 
AND HIS WISE UNCLE 

** He who harps, however well, 
Will meet a better harper ; 
He who sharps, though he excel, 
Some day will find a sharper." 

" Harper or sharper, it is all the same." 

— Gekad Dick Wohl, Abr. a Santa Clara, 1729. 

" It was long, long ago, and yet when people were very much 
the same as they are now, that there lived a iiobile signore di 
caifipagna, or noble country gentleman. He had an only son 
named Evandro, who had a kind heart and was not at all 
wanting in wit. 

" But he was withal very fantastic and capricious, with so 
many strange ways and wild tricks that many thought him 
'queer,' and that his bonnet was a hive of most eccentric and 
gigantic bees. For one might say of his ideas what the devil 
said when he saw all the beasts trooping out of Noah's ark — 
' I wonder what the devil will come next ! ' 

" Now the old signore died, and Evandro went to Florence 
to remain under the care of an uncle who was of all men on 
earth the one most unlike this singular youth, and least likely 
to understand him in any way. Oil and water, fire and ice, 
were nothing to it. 

" There are many people who are stupid as asses, and dull 
as the edge of a table, who think themselves wise because they 
do nothing notable — gnente afar riguardare — and who firmly 
believe that all which they do not understand is folly. Such 
was this uncle, who was a tailor, and very rich \ and he had a 
son, who was in everything his counterpart. 

"Therefore the uncle hated Evandro, and all the more 
because his nephew was far better-looking, more agreeable, 
and better educated than his son. Still, he was far from seeing 
that Evandro had any cleverness, and really believed him to 

156 



EVANDRO THE FOOL AND HIS WISE UNCLE 157 

be a kind of fool or buffoon, and altogether good-for-nothing. 
So he always spoke of him with pitying contempt. 

" One day it came into the head of this wealthy man, whose 
name was Lorenzone, to do something out of pure spite to 
make his nephew appear ridiculous. For the youth wanted 
some clothes, and the uncle gave him a suit, which was, indeed, 
of rich material and good quality, but of such antique and 
eccentric style that, as it seemed to him, any one wearing it 
would be ridiculed as a buffoon or fool — a suit of the time 
of King Ohm. 

" But Evandro, who had quickly learned all the mysteries 
of tailoring, and who had a marvellously artistic taste, at once 
saw his way to something successful, and with a little alteration 
made of the suit something very beautiful and original, for he 
was one of those who are born to lead fashions and not to 
follow them. 

" So he went in this apparel to a ball, where everybody was 
amazed at his fine clothes, and asked him where he got them ; 
and he replied that they were made by his uncle, to whom he 
gave the full credit of the fashion, saying nothing of his own 
work thereon. 

" What was the amazement of the uncle when there came 
the next day at least twenty young gentlemen, all wanting suits 
like those of his nephew ! But, being blinded by his conceit 
and ignorance, he only said to himself that one fool makes a 
score, and did as they desired, never perceiving that, so far from 
quizzing, he had himself been quizzed. 

" It was the fashion in Florence in those days to have many 
festivals, with masks and all manner of madness, and during 
the Carnival to give a grand procession. He who rode at the 
head of it was mounted on the most singularly coloured horse 
which could be found. He was dressed in an antique garb, 
and bore on a lance a banner on which was painted a solemn 
fool. 

" Then after him came a multitude representing, in comic 
guise, doctors, priests, artisans, soldiers, astrologers, sculptors, 
artists, and all kinds of people. 

"Now, it occurred to the uncle that on this occasion his 
nephew, being given the opportunity, would be sure to do 
something ridiculous or disgraceful, for which he, indeed, most 
ardently longed, so great was his envy and hatred of the youth. 
So he gave him an introduction to the master of the revels, 
and waited to see what would come of it. 



158 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

"But this gentleman, who was a congenial spirit, received 
Evandro joyfully, and asked him if he could suggest any- 
thing new. 

" ' Truly,' replied the youth, ' it seems to me that 'twould be 
a very good idea to put the people of every trade in a waggon 
each by themselves, and let them work as they are drawn 
along. Then the one who does the best should have a reward. 
The shoemaker who makes the best pair of shoes, or the 
tailor who makes the best coat, should receive a medal or a 
garland.' 

" ' Admirable ! ' replied the master. ' It shall be done.' 

" Truly the uncle was as mad as a wounded wolf when he 
heard of this, for it was little to his taste to go riding in a cart 
hung with wreaths and flags, and doing such buffoon's work ; 
but, on the other hand, he could not endure the thought that 
a rival should win the prize and be proclaimed king of the 
tailors over him. 

" Then Evandro said to him : 

'"Uncle, I will tell thee how to win the prize by a merry 
trick, beyond all doubt. Do thou first of all make at home 
and in secret, with great care, a very fine coat ; for, of course, 
no one can produce any good work in a waggon. Then, while 
in the procession, cut out and stitch another like it, and when 
no one sees you, substitute the home-made one for it. 

" ' Then when thou shalt receive the prize — as thou certainly 
wilt — produce the one made in the waggon, and tell the truth, 
and 'twill all be regarded as a merry trick and a good Carnival 
jest — come scaltrezza^ come scherzo di Carnivale per ucellare gli 
altri — and thou wilt keep the reward all the same.' 

" So it all came to pass, and all Florence spoke of the uncle 
as a man of admirable wit, and he heard so much of it that he 
really began to believe it, and think that the credit of the jest 
was all his own. 

" Now one would have thought that, after all this, the old 
tailor would have given up trying to play ill-natured tricks on 
Evandro, but it is in the nature of his kind to understand 
nothing short of a rap on the head with a club ; and as he had 
come to believe that he was a grarH uccellatore, or grand master 
in the art of selling, he devised with his son something which 
should be a masterpiece of trickery. 

"There was in Florence a lady of extraordinary beauty, 
wealth, accomplishments, and great family. Her name was the 
Countess Paolina, and though Evandro was neither poor nor 



EVANDRO THE FOOL AND HIS WISE UNCLE 159 

lowly, there was little likelihood that he would ever make her 
acquaintance. 

''Then the uncle and his son, between them, wrote a letter 
purporting to be by the lady, full of love and passion, inviting 
the nephew to come and sup with her, and enjoining on him 
to keep it all a secret. 

" But the precious pair forgot one thing, which was, that in 
such work as this Evandro had not his equal, verily not in all 
Italy, where humbugging and quizzing are better understood 
than in the rest of the round world ; and he had written far 
too many such letters himself not to see at a glance that this 
bucket never held any water. So he only roared with laughter 
over it, and far from heeding the postscript, in which he was 
implored, in the name of God and all the saints, to keep it a 
holy secret, he read it aloud that very evening at supper to a 
few companions. 

"Now among these was a young nobleman, who, like all 
people of intelligence, had a very high opinion of Evandro, 
knowing that he had a generous and kind heart, and it 
occurred to him that it would be an admirable jest to turn the 
tables against the one who had tried to trick him. So, going 
to the Countess, he told her the whole story, giving such a 
favourable account of the good looks, wit, and honour of 
Evandro that she at once said : 

" ' Truly, if your friend be half as pleasant as you describe, 
it is a great pity that he has not been among my friends long 
before. Therefore I pray you, Signore Vincentio, to bring 
him here to supper to-morrow evening.' 

"Now Evandro, who suspected that the letter had been 
cooked by his dear uncle and cousin, went home and showed 
it to them, pretending great joy, but never said a word as to 
the invitation conveyed by the Signore Vincentio. So the 
tailor and his son rejoiced with exceeding great joy, saying: 
' So it will come to pass that he will be hurled forth with scoffs 
amid numerous kicks, and be lashed away like a dog.' 

" So they aided him at his toilet, and admired him greatly, 
telling him that he would be greatly honoured, and doubtless 
marry the lady, and so on. And loud were their roars of 
laughter after he had left. 

" Truly he laughs best who laughs the last ! What was 
their surprise at learning in the morning that Evandro had 
been indeed an honoured guest at the palace of the Countess 
Paolina ! And 'twas, indeed, no great wonder, for he had 



i6o LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

found himself among birds of a like feather, who knew him 
at a glance. 

" ' Pari con pari, disse Marcolfo al muro ; 
' Pari con pari sta bene e dura. ' 

" ' Like to like,' as Marcolfo said 
Unto the stones i' the wall ; 
' Like with like should ever wed, 
It passeth over all.' 

"Yea, verily; for it had come to pass that Evandro never 
looked better nor said so many brilliant things as on that 
evening. After that he was every day at the Countess's 
palazzo^ whence it came that he passed into a high position. 
Before long he came to be of age, and inherited his paternal 
property ; the end of it all being that nobody was astonished, 
and everybody was glad to learn that he was betrothed to the 
beautiful Countess, and finally married her. 

" ' The devil is in the fellow,' said the uncle. ' Nothing ever 
goes against him. If we had thrown him into the Arno, he'd 
have come out with a fish in his mouth.' And 'tis worth 
noting that to the end of his days Evandro was always as 
kind to his uncle as if he had been his best friend, as he 
indeed had been, but without meaning it. 

" ' Many whom as fools we see 

Are wise enough when they so will be.' 

" There was never yet a wise man who had not in him some 
touch of the fool." 

Which last remark may be found literally in Seneca, 

and in some form in many writers, the Greeks going so 

far as Mania g^ou pasin omoia, and the Romans to 

Insania non omnibus eadem — meaning that we are all 

moony, only in a manifold or different way. Which very 

apparent fact the stoic Damasippus thought it worth while 

to copiously demonstrate. Yet the true summary of this 

tale lies in an Italian proverb, which declares that Non e 

sempre savio chi non sa esser qualche volta pazzo : 

" He is not wise by any rule 
Who cannot sometimes play the fool." 

There is a passage in that extremely eccentric work, 
La Zuccay by Doni the Florentine, A.D. 1607, which bears 



EVANDRO THE FOOL AND HIS WISE UNCLE i6i 

so closely on this tale as to suggest some common origin 
with it. It runs as follows : 

"'Tis the fashion, not only in one city, but in all, to keep 
Carnival,, with masquerades, balls, and other special festivals. 
But Florence goeth far beyond all others in her splendid 
triumphal displays and marvellous maskings, in the grand 
mastery of the art of life, teaching thereby moralities of death. 
And so it happened that in the year 1547, unless my memory 
misleadeth me, that some sage who wished to lay down laws for 
all mankind proposed to separate all the fools from the serious 
in the merry meeting, deeming that the grand procession 
would thus pass off more peaceably. So they had made a 
great tower, as it were, on a high rock, wherein they put all 
the fools, or, at least, those whom they deemed were such, 
and the pageant was arranged like this : There came first of 
all, on an eccentric-looking horse, a man dressed in antique 
garments, such as those which the Duke Borsa gave to Gonella, 
bearing a lance, on which was a great banner spiegato al vento — 
flying in the wind — on which was depicted a most grave and 
reverend fool of solemn sort. . . . And behind him came 
mounted doctors, poets, artisans, soldiers, astrologers, mathe- 
maticians, sculptors, alchemists, and all kinds of people in 
divers dresses and manifold niasks. In the midst was a tower, 
drawn by many beasts of burden, in which were public buffoons 
and private fools {inatti privati)^ over which there was such a 
yelling that it seemed as if those who were within differed but 
little as regards folly from those who were without. And with 
this there was admirable music and songs in chorus, ending 
with such sayings as that — 

** *The wise had put into that wondrous tower 

All whom they thought were fools ; yet in the end, 

Should truth and sense prevail, even they themselves 

Must enter in the tower, and be confined ; 

And that there's so much folly in the world, 

'Tis weariness and waste of time to try 

To limit it by any work of man ; 

For that all men were wise as far as they 

Desired it or appeared so to be, 

Yet Folly ever held in them its own.' 

"Then the door of the tower being thrown open, all the 
fools were allowed to go, every one his own way, a bmefizio di 
natura. And this was the end- of that festival, triumph, and 
masquerade." 

II L 



THE COLUMN OF SAN ZEN OB 10 

' ' In the Cathedral square there long had stood 
An ancient elm, now withered as could be, 
And by the pressure of the multitude 
It chanced the coffin struck against the tree ; 
And at the touch a miracle was seen, 
Clearly by influence of celestial powers, 
For in an instant all the elm was green, 
Covered with foliage and fairest flowers. 
In memory of which wondrous deed divine 
A column was erected as a sign." 

— Istoria e Vita di San Zenobi^ Florence ^ 1510, 

*' Nor is it unbelieved 
By ruder fancy that an ancient ghost 
Haunts this old trunk, reciting deeds of which 
The flowery ground is conscious." — Wordsworth. 

Every one who has visited the Cathedral in Florence 
has noticed the antique column, solemn, strange, and grey, 
which has stood for so many centuries between it and 
the Baptistery Church of St. John, and read in the guide- 
books that a withered tree once stood there, which re- 
vived and burgeoned when touched by the corpse of 
San Zenobio, or, more accurately, that ^' there is on the 
north side of the Baptistery the column of San Zenobius, 
a shaft of cipollinOy or veined marble, erected in the four- 
teenth century to commemorate a miracle said to have 
taken place upon the translation of his relics — a withered 
trunk of a tree, which was touched by his bier, having 
sprouted out into leaves." The column itself is, however, 
of an earlier time, and probably dates from the so-called 
Dark Ages, when the Lamps of Architecture shone with 
a brilliancy compared to which those of the present day 
are as farthing tallow-dips competing with a first-class 

electric light. 

162 



THE COLUMN OF SAN ZEN OB 10 163 

*' In all our wondrous march of mind, 
The Arts, it seems, lag far behind." 

As regards the column of San Zenobio, it may interest 
the reader to learn the whole story, which is thus told 
among the people, and which I do translate to the letter 
here: 

La Colonna di San Zenobi. 

" Before the beautiful Church of St. John, or near the gate 
of the Baptistery, there is a column of old marble, on which 
there is an iron band, and round it are decorations {scherzi)^ 
and small irons of forked shape, and with them a tree in leaf, 
also of iron. 

"This tree in leaf {albero di leccio) once grew where the 
column now stands, and San Zenobio, who every evening went 
out to walk, always on returning rested under it, and loved it 
so much that he often said : ' When I shall be borne to my 
grave, I wish that the funeral train will stop here on the way, 
to rest a while.' 

" After a time San Zanobio fell ill, and remained in bed 
during the day, but when everting came he always revived, and 
walked forth and rested under his tree. 

" And all who saw this were amazed that a man who was so 
ill that he could not stand, every day at a certain hour was 
so well that he walked as lightly as if he had never known 
sickness. 

"At last his hour of death drew nigh, and while the saint 
expired, all the room in which he lay became full of jessamines ; 
neither walls nor furniture were visible for these flowers ; the 
floor was a mass of them, and when trodden on they were not 
injured, nor did they fade. And all the bed became a mass of 
jessamines, and when he was to be borne to the tomb this was 
raised, and he was carried in it. 

"When the funeral procession came to the tree the saint 
rose, revived, and went and sat beneath it. 

"As it was midwinter the boughs were bare, but at his 
approach it shot forth in leaf And the saint said : 

" ' Here on this spot the tree will grow no more, 
Yet on this spot the tree shall ever be, 
For it shall shrink, and shrinking harder grow, 
Even as water shrinks when turned to ice. 



1 64 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

And it shall turn into a tree of iron, 
And where it grew a column will be raised 
In memory of all these marvels done. 
Place on the summit then a holy cross, 
And round it let there be an iron band. 
With ornaments in iron, and in the midst 
This wondrous tree of iron — no longer wood. 

" ' And it shall come to pass when any one 
Shall find that witchcraft wears away his life. 
And wife or children suffer by its power, 
Or that dark sin has grappled with the soul, 
Feeling in deep despair that he is damned. 
Then in this column he shall find a cure, 
And be restored to health and happiness.' 

" Thus spoke San Zenobio : 

" And it came to pass as he said ; the tree became a branch 
of iron, even as we see it now ; the column was raised ; all that 
San Zenobio had predicted was verified, and it is believed that 
he still walks of an evening by the column, but since that time 
he has never been seen by any one. 

" When any people believe that they or their children are 
bewitched, as indeed happens at times even now — come cene 
sono ancora — they should take a branch of a tree in leaf and 
go to the column, and embracing it, say : 

" * O beato e santo Zanobi,^ 
Per quanto tu amassi 
L'albero di leccio 
Che ora tie' stato levato,' &c. 

" * Blest holy San Zenobio, 
By the love which long ago 
Thou didst bear this blessed tree. 
Here I bring a branch to thee. 
If, approving my endeavour, 
Thou wilt grant to me a favour, 
As a simple sign of love. 
Make, I pray, yon circlet move ; 
And while kneeling at thy shrine, 
May I see it shake and shine ; 
Make the evil ones depart 
Who so long have vexed my heart, 
Or whoever it may be 
Who laid the evil spell on me 
Whate'er it is, for all men say 
Thy power can send it far away.' 

1 The name is spelt Zanobi through the MS., and is so called among the 
people. 



THE COLUMN OF SAN ZEN O BIO 165 

" Having said this, the column should be held embraced 
for an hour, and then the suppliant must walk away without 
casting a glance behind." 

History indeed informs us that this miracle of the dead 
tree really took place, not while the saint was on his first 
funeral, but during the subsequent " translation " of the 
body from San Lorenzo to San Salvador. But, as a 
friend irreverently remarks, ^^a few errors more or less 
in a saint's life are not of much consequence." The 
embracing the column, which is itself probably an old 
heathen reHc from the Temple of Mars or the Baptistery, 
is pleasingly pagan, as is the parting injunction, that 
after performing the very heathen incantation one 
should walk away, sensa pero voltarsi mai a dietro — 
"without once looking behind you," exactly as pre- 
scribed by Virgil and Theocritus after concluding a simi- 
lar ceremony. 

There is a literally incredible number of Lives of San 
Zenobio, or about enough jfor nine cats, of which I have 
perused the four dating from the fourteenth century to 
1557, reprinted in one volume in Florence in 1 863. When 
I was young the miracles of the New Testament were 
generally accepted by the vast majority as constituting 
nine-tenths of its true proof or claim to be inspired, but 
in this respect the Lord was very far behind most saints. 
The Life of San Zenobio, by Tolosani, 1 5 34, declares that 
raising the dead to life is the greatest miracle, as demon- 
strating the immortality of the soul, and that Christ and 
San Zenobio each performed it three times. Comment 
is here unnecessary. One of the saint's revivals was very 
remarkable. A young gentleman named Simplicio fell 
over a precipice in Switzerland, and was killed, with his 
horse, all his bones being broken. But San Zenobio was 
at hand, who at once enlivened the departed, so that he 
rose as sound as ev-er. One of St. Antonino's miracles is 
as follows : A small girl had let fall a wooden bucket into 



i66 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

the Arno, when the saint, by divine grace, actually re- 
covered it for her ! Truly, I have seen this very miracle 
worked more than once, before my very eyes, where I 
write, by the renajoli or sand-diggers of the Arno, when 
an oar or scoop drifted away from their barge ; but then 
they were not saints, and the miracle was not even 
recorded in La Fieramosca or the very excellent and 
observant Florence Gazette. 

It is an amusing fact, that the same author, Tolosani, 
who declares that San Zenobio, like Christ, raised three 
from the dead, and relates the details of each, afterwards 
adds a fourth in Chapter xviii., and then 2. fifth in Chapter 
xxvi. The truth is, that, beginning with three, the saint, 
or his biographers, went on improving in the art after his 
death, according to the blessed old saying. Que Vappetit 
vient en mangea7it — which is the greatest miracle of all, 
because the most incredible and incomprehensible. All 
of these Lives describe the marvel of the elm-tree, but not 
one so prettily or simply as it is told by Maddalena. They 
say nothing about the saint's daily resting under the tree ; 
of his loving it like a living thing (a ver}^ beautiful and 
ancient Roman idea) ; of his begging that the funeral pro- 
cession might stop and rest by it; and, finally, there is 
nothing said about the jessamines, which took the place 
of all the furniture and carpeted the floor, and would not 
die. Of course, the final wonder, that the tree turned to 
iron, and became a remedy for witchcraft and religious 
despair, is omitted — such heathenish and poetic flights 
being far beyond the capacities of hagiologists or writers 
of the Lives of Saints, of whom it is a most remarkable 
anomaly that, while they are so utterly regardless of 
truth, they are so pitiably deficient in imagination or 
poetry. In fact, the legend as I received and have given 
it — for here there is not a word of mine own — is so mar- 
vellously superior, as regards antique Roman spirit (or 
heathenism if you will), originality and picturesqueness, 



THE COLUMN OF SAN ZENOBIO 167 

and poetic touches, to the orthodox Catholic accounts 
of the same as to constitute a real curiosity of folk-lore. 
And I trow that the reader hath noted this peculiar 
character in many of these tales. It is a thing passing 
rapidly away, and in a very few years more there will 
not be a person living retaining a trace of it. 

Once a year in the Cathedral there is the grand exhibi- 
tion of the head of San Zenobio in a silver case. When 
priests are present who have been remarkably good, they 
are rewarded by having the skull placed just over their 
own. *^The first recognition of his body/' says Luigi 
Strozzi, A.D. 1685, "was, according to G. Villani, January 
I5» I330> and then there was bequeathed the skull set in 
silver." 

" I trust 'twill not escape the reader's ken," writes the bene- 
volent Flaxius, " that, broken, shattered, or granulated as it is, 
there is to be found in these scraps of tale and verse a wondrous 
survival of a kind of genius which was deeply sunk or widely 
spread in ancient times, and of which we really find but little 
in most of the ' folk-lore ' which is now recovered and recorded. 
Of which thing this tale is a notable example." 



/ 



THE WONDERFUL CONJURATION OF 
BACCHUS 

A LEGEND OF SAN LORENZO, IN FLORENCE 

"Silenus, whom the merry maids had raised upon an ass, rode along, 
holding a golden goblet, which was constantly filled for him. Slowly he 
advanced, while behind whirled in mad eddies the reckless troop of vine- 
clad revellers. You, reader, who are well educated and are familiar with 
descriptions of Bacchanalian orgies or festivals of Dyonisius, would not have 
been astonished at this. At the utmost, you would only feel a slightly 
licentious thrill at seeing this assembly of delightful phantoms risen from 
their sarcophagi to again renew their ancient and festive rights . . . 
all rioting, revelling, hurrahing, £voe Bacche !'' — The Gods in Exile ^ H. 
Heine. 

In the following narration, the story is strictly as I 
received it — the smoothing it somewhat into shape and 
the omitting a little needless verbosity are mine own, 
albeit I have injured my reputation for accuracy far 
beyond justice to myself by such admissions. If an 
author licks a clumsily-written, incoherent, distorted 
tale into shape, he is accused of ^' taking liberties," and 
if he prints it verbatim, nobody will read it, and all 
regard him as non compos. And I am in agreement 
here with the Protestant clergyman who, when con- 
fronted with the Papal " non possumus " replied, *' Thou 
meanest ^^ non compos-smnus." But the poetry is all 
given word for word as it is in the original, and it is the 
best of the whole. 

"It happened once, and it was long ago, when strange things 
were in the land, that the monks of the Cloister of San Lorenzo 
held a meeting wherein there was to be solemn consultation 
with' many nuns, abbesses, or holy lady superiors of divers 
convents. 

i68 



THE WONDERFUL CONJURATION OF BACCHUS 169 

"There was a certain Padre Geronimo, unto whom a 
marvellous thing happened; for, as he was hastening along 
to this meeting by the Via Frettolosa, he stumbled over a 
little old book or ancient manuscript, which he picked up 
and put in his pocket, and hurried to the capitolo. 

*'Now the proceedings were, to say the least, extremely 
prosy, long-winded, dull, wearisome, ' poky,' and slow, 
especially to Frate Geronimo, who was indeed a holy man, 
but especially in finishing off a whole bottle of wine, or in 
making a jest out of whole cloth — which is when it is as broad 
as it is long — wherein he was wholly without an equal. 

" It befell that there sat by Brother Geronimo a very devout, 
yet withal plump and pretty young Badessa, or abbess, in whose 
eyes there beamed from time to time sundry sparks of the light 
of a world of a very worldly nature. And as the proceedings 
became more and more intolerably stupid, the abbess looked 
with a pitying smile at Friar Geronimo, who was remarkably 
good-looking, albeit of the broad-shouldered, jolly, Herculean 
type of beauty ; to which he replied by closing both eyes and 
then opening them, shrugging his shoulders, or with a very 
unclerical wink, which provoked a shake of the head and a 
remonstrance with the forefinger, but accompanied by a smile ! 

" But even this telegraphing had to be very sparingly indulged 
in j and at last Friar Geronimo bethought him of his little book, 
and drawing it from his pocket, began to read therein. 

"Now this little work was one of sorcery and magic, but 
all of a jolly kind, full of merry deviltry, such audacious tricks 
as are used by wizard jugglers — barzellette da far ridere — run- 
ning more on goblin games and quaint devices than on dismal 
evocations of demons. 

"As Brother Geronimo read this book of gramarye, the 
pretty abbess, being a woman and full of curiosity, overlooked 
and read after him. . . . 

" And it was a peculiarity of the friar that he could not read 
without moving his lips and pronouncing the syllables — in fact, 
perusing aloud — as we often behold in peasants and children 
who have not quite got over their early lessons, alta voce. 

"Therefore the good friar read aloud a conjuration, the 
effect of which was to make, after a few seconds, horns to 
grow on the heads of all the men in the assembly. 

" It also caused their ears to shoot forth like those of fauns 
or jackasses, according to their temperaments. The asses' 
ears were in a majority. 



I70 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

' " And it made the hair of the nuns and abbesses or 
superioresses grow forth luxuriantly. 

" Likewise, it improved the good looks of the assembly to 
an extraordinary degree — saving the horns and ears. Withered 
old abbots became rosy, plump, and handsome fellows ; thin 
ascetics lusty as facchini or porters ; while the eyes of all grew 
large and startling, wild or languishing. It was a wondrous 
change for all, indeed ! 

" But as I said, it took a minute for all this metamorphosis, 
which was occupied by the pretty abbess, who also read or 
murmured aloud, like Geronimo, the following spell : 

" 'All ye who hear my voice, 
Be merry and rejoice ! 
Laugh and shout as in a revel ! 
All be merry, raise the devil ; 
All be jolly, la, la, la. 
With ho ! ho ! ho ! and ha I ha ! ha ! ' 

" Whereupon all present obeyed the instructions to the letter. 
They began to laugh and dance, and with one accord burst 
into a mad, irregular song : 

" * Bacco ! Bacco ! Bacco ! 

Padre dei Farraini ^ e dei Folletti ! 

Dio del vino divino ! 

Che porti sempre nella mano la pina, 

Fate le belle come crescere, 

Sulle teste di tutti qui i presenti ! 

Fate le orecchie lunge, 

Come le orecchie degli asini ! 

Fate di noi Baccanti, 

Tutto in tuo onore, 

Bacco ! Ewiva Bacco ! * 

Translation. 

" * Bacchus, Bacchus, Bacchus, hear ! 
Father of fairies and goblins queer, 

God of the wine divine 

Which trickles from the vine, 
Who bear'st the pine-cone in thy hand, 
Great lord adored in every land ! 
Make the merry horns appear 
On the heads of all assembled here ; 

^ Farraini; i.e., Farfarelli, demons. Compare with Farea, a kind of 
serpent. 



THE WONDERFUL CONJURATION OF BACCHUS 171 

Make their ears like asses' grow, 
Make us all Bacchanti. Ho 1 
In thy honour let it be 
Bacchus, O Bacchus, ^voe ! ' 

" The abbess, as if inspired, read on at the top of her voice ; 
and all the dancers sang to a wild music which came from — 
the devil knows where : 

" * Cantiamo ! Danziamo ! 
Balliamo ! Balziamo ! 
L'un sopra I'altro saltiamo ! 
E il diavolo facciamo ! 
Nel sacco il dolor mettiamo ! 

Bacco ! Bacco ! Bacco ! 

Tutto in tuo onore ! 
Quando Bacco trionfa 
II dolore fugge via. 

Buon amore e buon vino 

Mi scalda il mio cammino, 

Beviamo il buon vino 

Lascia andar I'acqua al mulino ! 

II vino ha il sapore, 

La bella donna ha il colore, 

Facciamo tutti I'amoi-e ! 

Uomo chi non ama vino, 

Non vale un quattrino : 

Bacco ! Baoco 1 Bacco ! 
Evviva ! Evviva il dio 1 
Con gioia faremmo il diavolo ! 
Mettiamo il dolor in sacco 
Bacco 1 Bacco 1 Evviva Baccho ! ' 

Translation. 

" * Let's be merry 1 Let us dance, 

Hop and skip, and whoop and prance ! 

O'er one another jump and revel 

Till we raise the very devil 1 

Away with sorrow and despair, 

Follow us no more, dull care ! 

Let no grim blue devils track us 

While we worship jolly Bacchus ! 

When he triumphs all is gay, 

And affliction flies away, 

Love and laughter, jest and song, 

All make light the way so long ; 

Drink good wine and take your fill ! 

Let the water turn the mill 1 

Wine is rosy that is true. 

Pretty girls are rosy too ; 

Let us all make love and true. 

He who loves not girls and wine 

Is a fool and superfine. 



172 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Bacchus I Bacchus I holy Bacchus ! 
Let no sorry fear attack us ! 
Bacchus ! Bacchus ! aid the revel ! 
Let us raise the very devil ! 
Send all care and grief away, 
Bacchus ! O Bacchus 1 £voe ! ' 

" And the merriment grew wilder ; goblins came dancing in, 
bearing great flasks of wine, with wreaths of roses and much 
ivy ; the revellers cast away their gowns and stoles and clad 
themselves with garlands — se le misero in capo e sene formarpno 
delle ciniure — crowning and girdling themselves with leaves ; 
laughing, dancing, and shouting more wildly every minute. 

"The Bishop became a mighty — yea, a magnificent man, 
with curling locks, drinking lustily from a tremendous vase 
of wine, while the arms of a beautiful abbess encircled his 
neck. 

" His chierico, or attendant, who was short and plump, grew 
ever plumper and joUier, crying aloud, ' lo sono il Silenzio 1 ' 
And there came in an ass all garlanded with flowers, and the 
chih'ico, Silenzio, mounted the ass, supported by wild and 
merry girls. And so he rode round the hall, following the 
Bishop ; and after him came the rest in a revelling procession, 
embracing, kissing, making love, drinking, dancing, shouting — 
facendo il diavolo e peggio ! — and singing : 

" ' Evviva Bacco, ha Bacco si, 
Da Martedi a Lunedi ! ' 

" ' Hurrah for Bacchus, that is right, 

From Sunday morn till Saturday night ! ' 

" So they kept it up all day and night, and none could enter 
the hall or leave it, for the doors seemed to be changed to a 
wall. But at last the brave Geronimo and the jolly abbess — 
who had not lost their time, I assure you, in all this, nor 
their share of lovemaking and drinking and dancing — began 
to think how all this revelry which they had begun was to be 
brought to an end. 

"So, putting their heads together, they studied the book, 
and found the counter-spell to set all right again. 

" And when Geronimo read it a change came over all and 
everything ; 'twas like the waking from a wondrous dream. All 
were silent in an instant — the horns and long ears vanished — 
gone were the garlands, ivy, roses, vines — yea, even the donkey 
faded into air. 



THE WONDERFUL CONJURATION OF BACCHUS 173 

"Yes, at the instant they all forgot everything — what they 
had seen, and what they had been, and how they had behaved. 
All that they knew was, that they were awfully tired of a long 
day's hard work, and so went home to sleep. 

"All forgotten save by Geronimo and the abbess, who, 
having become wizard and witch, laughed over it, and kept the 
secret well ! " 

Singular as it may seem — for the story as I have told 
it probably seems to every reader a piece of modern 
manufacture — this tale is widely spread, and the em- 
broidery which I have added to it has been very slight, 
or not nearly so much as Heine gave to the same when 
treating of Bacchus in his Gods in Exile. It is told as 
follows in a German work (Hexen und Zauber-Advocaf) 
of 1705 : 

" Herr Detleff von Ahlefeld, formerly Danish Ambassador, 
relates in his Memoirs that a book on magic, left in a room 
by travellers .... was found by children, who took it with 
them to the Jesuit school. And opening the book, they 
found what charm must be 'uttered and what characters in- 
scribed to make horns grow on the heads of those present; 
after which followed a spell to inspire laughter, dancing, and 
shouting ; which being read, horns sprouted on the head of 
the Jesuit and of all the children, and they, joining hands, 
danced madly round in a ring with great noise and exulting — 
mit grossen Gepolter und Jubel-Geschrey — leaping over tables 
and benches ; which attracted the attention of the Jesuit, 
who was teaching in the next room, who, on entering, was not 
a little amazed at the strange sight before him. . . . But 
looking about, he found the book, and having, by sharp 
threats, drawn the truth from the children, he examined it, and 
found a counter-charm or antidote, which, when read, removed 
the horns and restored quiet. And then the book was 
burned in collegio" 

Other legends give us the souvenirs of Bacchanalia, 
as, for instance, the procession in which Venus restores 
the ring to a youth, and the story of the Bacchanals and 
Bacchus, which still haunt Florence. In fact, there is 



174 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

very little indeed in all here given which is not found in 
other traditions. 

It is worth noting that many writers on occulta, even 
to the seventeenth century, believe that common jugglers 
and mountebanks, or legerdemainists, executed their mar- 
vellous tricks by the aid of sorcery and the devil. This 
was not, however, regarded as quite so bad as witchcraft. 

"Truly," adds our heathen Flaxius, "there is something 
touching in the manner in which chroniclers and tellers of old 
tales recall these little memories of jolly heathen gambollings, 
rollicking and frolicking, revels, dances, rompings, love- 
makings, kiss-in-the-rings, and similar jolly, harmless didoes, 
as if they who were in them had raised the very devil of 
Iniquity himself, and, like Moses, broken all the command- 
ments at once, when, J>ardy, they were rather acting piously 
and doing their duty — if innocent enjoyment be such, and a 
stimulus to honest labour and kindly feeling. For in all this 
tale there is not one word said that any of the revellers smote 
or cursed or reviled the rest, or did them wrong in any way 
— which thing is so unlike all the proceedings of all Church 
councils that it is probably the reason why the Bacchic revel 
was recorded as unholy." 

•* If anything our senses please, 
Be sure that thing cannot be right : 
Yea, there is sin in toasted cheese, 
If eaten with an appetite." 



LEGEND OF LA VIA CONDOTTA, THE 
MUSICAL STATUE 

*' That marble shape then seemed to quiver, 
And its fair limbs to float in motion, 
Like weeds unfolding in the ocean ; 
And its lips moved." 

— Shelley, Marianne's Dream. 

'* Wondrous music men may hear, 
Most entrancing to the ear. 
From old statues when the sun 
His appointed course hath run ; 
And 'tis said they often raise 
Voices sweet in solemn praise. 
At the vanishing of light, 
To the coming Queen of Night."— C. G. L. 

" There once lived in Florence, in the Via Condotta, a gentle- 
man who had a great love for all manner of antique and curious 
things, and who was also devoted to music. 

"And by much reading and reflection he had come to 
believe that the music of ancient times must have been far 
better than that which we now have, because, as all the other 
arts were more perfect, that also must have been. (Which 
thing, if it be true in everything, makes it a great pity that we 
are not all a thousand years behind the time.) 

"However, everybody did not agree with him as to this, 
and among these was a friend, who well understood that 
though two, blowing at a candle, put it out, yet that a pair 
putting wood on a fire make it burn the more. So between 
them they made the fire of controversy blaze up merrily enough. 
And one evening they raised it to burning heat, the friend of 
the antiquary affirming that he beheved the music of the 
ancients was all rubbish, scrannel-piping and cat-calls, penny 
trumpets and child-rattles, while the other swore it was like 
the holy chorus of angels, with Santa Cecilia as first violin or 
capo d! orchestra. 

175 



176 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" At last the advocate of modern music declared he would 
bet a hundred crowns that he was in the right, and his friend 
accepted the wager. Now, truly, this seems very much like 
laying a bet that there is another world, or ghosts; but the 
antiquary was equal to the occasion, declaring that he knew a 
wise magician who by his art could settle the question. 

"Then going to the sorcerer, who dwelt near by Santa 
Croce, he told him all, saying that he, the magus, might keep 
the hundred crowns, and welcome, if it could only be proved 
that the music of the olden time was superior to that of these 
our days. 

" ' Tis a difficult thing to prove,' replied the wizard — * dzfi- 
cile ma non i?npossibile — but though 'tis hard, 'tis not impossible ; 
and thou art in the right — per Bacco I — the ancient music truly 
was the best. 

^^^ Ebbene, to ho il vostro affare — Well, I see my way toit !' 
he cried after a short reflection. ' I know where, in a ruined 
temple not many miles away, there is an antique statue of 
a girl holding in her hand a lyre, and we will go thither this 
night and see what can be done.' 

"So they went secretly, and at midnight the sorcerer en- 
chanted the statue, so that it became a living woman of extra- 
ordinary beauty, who played and sang with such exquisite 
charm and skill that the antiquary found all he hoped for far 
surpassed. 

" Then he took the lady to his home, and next day said to 
his friend : 

" ' Now we will settle that wager of a hundred crowns, and 
I care not if thou wilt make it for a thousand. And this is 
what I propose: do thou bring the best female singer and 
musician, be it with the lute or harp, whom thou canst find, to 
perform in modern style, while I will produce another, who 
will do the same, al antico modo — in the ancient manner.' 

"Now, both being distinguished men, this proposed com- 
petition or trial caused great excitement, and on the day 
appointed for the strife all the distinguished people of Flor- 
ence, including the musicians, were present. 

" Then the lady who represented modern music sang and 
played the harp. All were delighted, and applauded her, 
declaring that it was not possible for art to surpass what they 
had heard. 

"But when she who had been the statue appeared, there 
was a dead silence of admiration ; nor were the auditors less 



LEGEND OF LA VIA CONDOTTA ^77 

silent while she sang and played, nor even for a minute after 
she had ceased, so spell-bound were they by the charm of her 
voice and the infinite depth of her skill, which was supported 
by the genius of the composition, as the colour of a great 
picture is supported by the design. But when the charm was 
broken, all applauded as they had never done before, declaring 
that the ancient music surpassed the modern as the sun in 
light surpasses a star. 

" Now there was present another and a rival magician, who 
well understood the whole affair ; and, whether it was for a jest 
or to annoy his rival, he rose and said to the singer : 

" ' Thou hast sung so well that it seems to me we really ought 
to erect a statue to thee in thy honour; and as none but 
thyself can be thy parallel, or honour thee as thou deservest 
to be, I will even make thee a votive image unto thyself, 
O Muse ! ' 

"Saying this, he touched her, whereupon the beautiful 
singer became at once a statue as before." 

This is an Italianised, and of course more graceful, 
version of a tale which may be found in other forms; 
among them a German one, thus related in that singular 
and rare book, Tke Infernal Morpheus. 

" Chrysostom {Horn. xxix. in Matth.^ cap. 8) hath told us that 
when the dead speak, it is not the voice of the departed whom 
we hear, but that of a devil. Tertullian, De Anim.^ cap. 57 : 
The speeches of souls are the delusions of devilish spirits who 
hide themselves under the forms of the dead. On which con- 
sult Augustine, De Civitate Dei, Lib. x. cap. 2, and of this I will 
tell thee a tale : 

" In Bononia a certain sorcerer once brought it to pass that 
he made the soul of a certain maiden who was a marvellous 
performer on the cithar (guitar or cithern), and who had died, 
enter the body of another, recently deceased; and this she 
animated, playing and singing, and going to festivals, as she had 
done of old. But there came, probably at the instigation of 
the devil, who had grown tired of serving, another Necromanticus, 
who called away the soul ; whereupon, the life being gone, the 
body fell dead as before, and so the deceit of the devil was 
discovered and made apparent. Consult on this Caspar Peucer, 
De DivinationCy cap. i, p. 14, and Godelmann, Tradatus de 
Magia, Lib. i. cap. 4, de AecromantiaP 

II M 



178 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

To which our gentle Flaxius softly adds : 

"Here we have the common old-fashioned belief that 
everything magical or marvellous, not ecclesiastical, must 
needs be ' devil, devil, devil — toujours le diable ' — with stinks 
and wickedness; which thing, being the foulest, falsest, and 
worst in the whole bag of priestly tricks, was thankfully 
received as a rich legacy by Luther and the Reformers, and 
made (if possible) by them an even greater source of cruelty 
and oppression. Truly, if they had been one half as anxious to 
shake off the yoke of the devil as they were that of the Pope, 
their Reformation had been of double value. 

"For, as the perfection of good self-government does not 
consist entirely in getting rid of a tyrant, or even in guillotin- 
ing aristocrats and confiscating their property, so the acme of 
morals and humanity was not quite reached by cutting loose 
from the corrupt old beldame of Babylon, albeit every history 
of the Reformation and most preachers thereunto teach us 
that same — as if the world had needed nothing more ! "^ 



THE 'DREAM OF THE EGG 

A LEGEND OF THE TORRE DEL UOVO, IN THE VIA 
DI SANTO SPIRITO 

" Divinatrices, operatrices vel sagae, cognoscunt secreta, furta, deperdita, 
et thesauros quae hominuni cognitionem fugiunt." — De Confessioitibus Male- 
ficorum et Sagarum, Audore Petro Binsfeldio, a.D. 1596. 

"For a dream, like the shadow, doth show the objectum, or solid body 
or reality, albeit I may not clearly see all the lineaments, yet from it we 
may come to a fact." — Hollischer Morpheus^ by P. Goldschmidt, 1704. 

Truly an ^^'g seems to be a simple thing enough, with 

as few mysteries or moral lessons in it as in anything in 

the world, and yet I dare say one could fill a book the size 

of a quart measure with them, and have a pint left over. 

Thus it is said that "no one can cook an o^g'g in cold 

water," and yet, simple as I am, I myself have seen it 

done ; and the way it was done was this. Lay the ^gg 

in a pipkin, cover it with water and quicklime, and you 

will soon find it boiled. But what would you who do not 

know the trick, say to cooking one by holding it in your 

hand ? Truly, it was by betting on this that the Signore 

Giomo di Valdarno won a horse, and a saddle of ivory and 

silver. E cost : Take an eggy break a very Httle hole at 

the end so as to leave a flap of the shell like the door of 

a tarantula's nest, or a lid ; pour out a little of the white, 

and put in its place some spirit or strong brandy. Then 

close the flap, glue paper over it, and hold the ^gg in your 

hand. Then the spirit will soon become so warm that it 

will cook the Qgg. Come now, if you did not know it, you 

have learned something whereby you may earn a penny 

when in want ! 

179 



i8o LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

And the learned Francesco Petrarcha, who was called 
truth itself, he being a man whom no one asked to swear to 
aught — his word being deemed better than any other man's 
oath — hath left it on record as a truth in the ** Annals of 
Celebrated Eggs," that when the Roman Empress Livia was 
carrying a treasure in her purse — that is to say, was two 
in one, the other being the unborn Tiberius — she, wish- 
ing to know whether the infant would be male or female, 
carried an egg in her bosom until it hatched, and proved 
to be a cock ; whereupon she said, " Now do I see that I 
shall bear a boy." Which she indeed did, more's the pity, 
for her son turned out to be what our peasants call un 
novo cattivo, or bad egg ; indeed, it having been said of him 
that he stunk of vice even in a stinking age. But as re- 
gards the Empress, it seems to me that she knew less about 
the holy mysteries and subHme secrets of eggs than does 
many a contadina or peasant girl, since any one of them 
will tell you at a glance whether thi^frutta di gallinay or 
hen-fruit, will be male or female. For when it contains a 
cock in embryo — or cocklet — 'tis somewhat longer, and 
hath at the lesser end a certain roughness, and is withal 
often somewhat larger than those which contain the hen- 
wives. 

Which story recalls, in a way, the celebrated egg of 
Columbus,^ who, once being asked how it was that he 
should have got the idea that there was an unknown 
world beyond the wailing waves, when wiser men than 
he knew naught of it, took an egg and asked all the 
learned present if they could make it stand on end. 
Which they declared was impossible; whereupon this 
Columbus — who, as a dove, knew something about eggs 
— simply broke one end and stood it up thereon. Yet 
long before this happened there was an Italian proverb, 
^^Rizzar Vuovo di Pippo su un pianOy^ meaning to do a 
difficult thing, or achieve it by tact and skill. 

1 Alluded to in the first volume of these Legends, p. 94 (note). 



THE DREAM OF THE EGG i8i 

For an egg can be made to stand on end without 
breaking it at all, as I myself have proved by simply 
balancing it with great care till it is in equilibrio^ and this 
on a marble table, which you can all try for yourselves. 

Now, ye have all read how the English Gulliver found, 
in a strange land of small people, that there were two 
great political factions, one of whom broke their eggs at 
the point, and the other at the butt; whence they were 
termed Big-Endians and Little-Endians. Which idea 
came from this, that, firstly, the Jews made it a religious 
duty to break an ^gg at the smaller end, because it is 
there that a drop like blood — which is the embryo of the 
fowl's heart — is often found ; in which case they did not 
eat it. But the Latins always broke the bigger end, for 
some great reason equally wise, which is discussed by 
four learned writers not worth mentioning; while the 
Germans, as Praetorius explains, began by crushing the 
side. And this author tells us that there were in his 
time, or in the seventeenth pentury, nine kinds of ill-luck 
caused by eating eggs carelessly in divers ways. 

Unto which I could add many pages, but for the pre- 
sent I will conclude by a tale which treats of the mystical 
and true, or occult, meaning of the yellow and the white 
in an ^ggy which narrative is as follows, verbatim : 

La Signora del Uovo. 

" There was once, long, long ago, a lady who was most un- 
lady-like in being dishonest and deceitful; and this dame 
dwelt in the old tower in La Via di Santo Spirito in Florence. 

"Now, she dreamed one night that she saw an egg, and 
this made such a strange impression on her that the next 
day she went to a witch and asked her what it meant. 

" To which the sorceress replied : 

" ' The egg means a great treasure which you may find, but 
only by my aid ; and if you do so, you must give me one half 
of it. I will make a spell by means of which you will again 
dream to-night of the place or house wherein it is, and on the 
third night the exact spot where it hides will be revealed.' 



i82 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" So the lady promised that, in case of success, she would 
truly divide the treasure with the witch. 

" And on the second night she indeed dreamed that treasure 
was somewhere in the place where she dwelt, which was called 
the Torre del Uovo, or Egg Tower; and on the third night 
that it was under a certain slab in a cellar, where she truly 
found it. It consisted of ten thousand crowns in gold and 
five hundred in silver, so that, by weight alone, one half of it 
was gold and the other silver. 

"Then the lady said to herself, 'I will indeed give the 
witch f^e silver half, and keep the other for myself.' 

" So she took the silver to the witch, who, after looking at 
it, said with a stern air : 

" ' (9 che siei senza vergogna ! — Oh, how shameless art thou 
and dishonest to try to cheat me thus ! 

" ' Thou didst dream of an egg, which means a treasure in 
equal parts of gold and silver. The yellow of an egg means 
gold, and the white, silver. And I meant half the value, and 
not one half of the weight. Thou art like the talking hen of 
Montecuccoli, who ate the egg before she had laid it : 

" ' Come la gallina di Montecuccoli, 
Mangiava I'uovo prima di farlo.' 

" * If thou dost not give me half of the gold before three 
days are past thou shalt die, and I will take the whole.' 

" The lady returned to her home, and at once found herself 
very ill. She grew worse and worse. When she believed 
that she was dying, she sent for the witch and gave her half 
the gold, and then the sorceress cured her. E cosi la Signora 
guariva. 

" Of all which it may be said : 

" * He who the devil would deceive 
Must rise full early, we may believe ; 
And he who would cheat a master-cheat 
Will in the end be surely beat.' 

"Which is all true, as sure as eggs are eggs, and not 
chickens." 

The same tale is told, very briefly, in that curious 
collection of quaint essays and traditions, or folk-lore, 
the Wahre und eigentliche Entdeckung von der Zaubereyy 



THE DREAM OF THE EGG 183 

by Jacob, the Lord of Lichtenberg, but generally known 
as the Theurgia of Wolfgang Hildebrand, its ostensible 
editor, 1704 — a work discussing all manner of popular 
mysteries, such as sorcery, witchcraft, house - goblins, 
werewolves, the incubus, fiery men, and the wild-hunt, 
abundantly illustrated with ancient erudition, and, better 
still, with modern instances. According to it, the woman 
who had dreamed of the ^g^ found a silver can full of 
gold-pieces, and only offered to the witch the hd of the 
beaker. To which the witch replied : " Thou only givest 
me a part of the white of the ^gg — why dost thou deny 
me my share of the yolk ? " On which the wise Wolf- 
gang remarked : '^ Behold how shrewdly Satan sees 
things, and how the Htchre knew of the gold in the can 
as if she had seen it." To which, indeed, one might reply 
that the lid of a silver tankard might easily cause a clever 
woman to guess the rest, even as the author conjectured 
from the woman's being a witch, that she was also a 
"sociable evil." For the lid of a tankard implies a 
tankard, or "more where that came from," and on that 
hint she spoke. 



LEGEND OF LA VIA DEI SASSETTI, OR THE 
CORNER OF THE FOUR DEVILS 



" Cito improborum Iseta ad perniciem cadunt. Which being Englished 
means : 

' The joys of wicked persons tend 
To their own ruin in the end.' " 

— TAe Maxims of Seneca. 

"And verily, how deplorable is the condition of that man who is forced 
to sigh in agonised expectancy of the loss or gain of fortune on a vilissima 
carta — a contemptibly vile card !" — The Moral which may be drawn from 
a Ga77te of Cards, by Giovanni Francesco Loredano, a Venetian Noble, 
Venice, 1677. 

"O hominem nequam, qui non dubitaret alea ludere !" — Cicero. 

Had I received this and the following legend before I 
wrote that of ** The Devil of the Mercato Vecchio/' I should 
have included the three in a single chapter, as they all 
refer to the bronze Diavolino of Giovanni di Bologna. 
Both are literally translated : 

" There was once in Florence a great family, of which the 
mother and only daughter, whose name was Lucia, were indeed 
as good as saints or angels, and loved by all. 

" But just as they were good, the father and three brothers 
of Lucia were utterly evil in every way, men whose infamy 
began where that of the worst end, hating all that was good, 
souls damned while in the body, and the body accursed. 

"And as they found their greatest pleasure in tormenting all 
living things, they tormented and grieved in every way their 
mother and sister. 

" Truly they spared no one, for they were always in a rage 
if the sun went down on a day during which they had not 
murdered or put on the rack some human being, or goaded 
some poor wretch to madness. Erano maledizione continue — 

they were living curses. 

184 



LEGEND OF LA VIA DEI SASSETTI 185 

" Lucia, however, became betrothed in spite of them to a 
young nobleman of suitable rank and condition. Whereupon 
the father and three brothers began to slander and abuse him 
to her, swearing that they would kill him, no matter how, if steel 
or poison could be found in Florence. 

" But one day they said to her in a treacherous way, which 
Lucia much distrusted : 

" ' We have thought better of this betrothal of yours, and 
think it better to be good friends with your beloved. There- 
fore we have invited him here to supper this evening.' 

" Now they had with great art prepared a figure exactly like 
that of her betrothed, with garments such as he wore, and a 
face of wax which was a perfect likeness, but like that of a dead 
man, and pale. 

" And when Lucia entered they mockingly led her up to it, 
with courtesies, and bursting into roars of laughter, cried : 

" ' JEcco / there he is, as dead as a stone. We have poisoned 
him at last. Oh, touch his face and see how cold it is ! He 
will never speak another word. Dead without a priest.' 

" And Lucia did indeed touch and kiss the face, and never 
noticed that it was wax ; at which the father and brothers 
roared again with laughter, and sat down at the table and 
began to carouse and sing the burial-service, with many ribald 
words ; while Lucia, in horror and agony, fled with her mother 
to their chamber, where the poor souls prayed to God with all 
their hearts, for it seemed to them as if misery could go no 
further. 

" And while thus praying and weeping there appeared before 
them an old man of very venerable aspect, whom they knew 
must be a saint, between two angels, and he said to them : 

" ' Rise at once and leave this infamous house, nor return 
to it till it shall have been purified by the fire of punishment. 
Go to the house which is opposite and look from it hither.' 

" They did as he bade ; and when in the opposite building 
they saw red flames and fire fill all their own palace, and 
saw the forms of demons flitting in the flames, and heard the 
screams of the four guilty wretches, or of the father and his 
sons. 

" But when all was over and they returned, there was no 
sign of any fire or burning save in a few charred or burned 
bones of the four who had been so cruel. 

" And there came at once the betrothed of Lucia ; he was 
to her as one risen from the dead, for no joy is so great as the 



1 86 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

recovery of that which we thought was lost; and they were 
soon wedded, and lived happily. 

"And the four wicked ones were changed into the four 
bronze devils which were once at the corner of the old palace, 
and of which one remained till it was torn down. This was 
called the Diavo/mo." 

The next legend referring to the same subject is 
that of : 

The Gambler and San Zenobio. 

" There was once a man who cared for Httle or nothing on 
earth save gambling, be it with cards or dice, yet with many 
vices he had one virtue, which was, that whenever he won he 
always gave the half of his gains to the Church or to the 
poor. 

"So one day, having won two crowns at cards, he went 
forth through the woods and over the hills on his way home, 
till he met by the roadside a poor little tottering old man, who 
said : 

' ' ' Anything in charity, 

Bzwn Signor, I beg of thee ; 
Though but a farthing, it would be 
Very welcome unto me.' 

"To which he replied : 

* ' ' We all by one another live, 
Therefore this I gladly give ; 
Buon pro vifaccia.y understood, 
And may it do you lots of good.' 

" Saying this, he gave him a crown, with a laugh. To which 
he replied : 

*' ' Lightly won and lightly spent. 
So it was a fortune went ; 
Yet, for all that, it would be hard 
If kindness met with no reward.' 

" ' Thou hast been generous, and I will tell thee something 
for thy good, O my son ! 

" ' There is a signore who will play at dice with thee, and he 
will win all thy money. Then he will propose as a stake that 
he shall become thy servant or thou his. But he will mean 
eternal service in this world and for ever. 



LEGEND OF LA VIA DEI SASSETTI 187 

" ' Beware of him, for he is a devil. Now take these dice, 
and when thou playest thou wilt lose all thy money. Let it go. 
But he who plays with them wi// always win the last throw. 
See that thou manage it wisely.' 

" Now this old man was San Zenobio. 

" And surely enough the gambler, whose name was Brondo, 
soon met with his devil, who proposed to play, and won 
all his money, and then offered to make the last stake one of 
service. They agreed to make the game one of fifty throws. 
And when the devil had lost forty-nine he said : 

" ' I see that I shall lose. But in that case I must return to 
hell, where I shall be terribly punished for a failure. Now 
if thou wilt keep me here on earth, I may escape, and will 
assuredly make thee rich. What form shall I take ? ' 

" ' Bene^' replied Brondo. ' But as I wish to keep thee from 
doing any more mischief, I order thee to become a bronze 
image in thy own natural form.' 

" Then the devil gave to Brondo a hundred thousand crowns, 
saying : 

" ' Take this, but never play again. Ogni belgiuoco vuolfinire 
— stop playing when thou hast won.' 

"So the devil became the Diavolino of the Mercato 
Vecchio." ' 



THE COUSIN 

A LEGEND OF THE BORGO SANT' APOSTOLI 

*' He who would wed a widow must not dally, 
But pluck the flower while the sun doth shine ; 
He must not linger with a shilly-shall-I ? 
But boldly say, ' Widow, thou must be mine ! ' " 

— OldBal/ad. 

" There was once a gentleman who married the most beauti- 
ful woman in Florence, all very great people of course, and 
they lived in the Borgo Sant' Apostoli. After one year the 
husband died, and the wife grieved and wailed over him so 
that the whole city talked of it. She wept, as the saying is, 
a vite tagliata^ a caW occhi — ' like a cut vine ' — till her eyes 
burned. Night and day she was in grief, crying, ' I too would 
gladly die, and so rejoin my darling husband, who has passed 
away ! ' 

" * O Death 1 why dost thou come 

To those who'd live for aye ? 

O Death ! why dost thou shun 

Those who would gladly die ? ' 

"A handsome young gentleman, a cousin of the deceased 
husband, was tna7fiorato perditamente — so far gone in love with 
the beautiful widow that the bucket of his heart fairly slopped 
over, and remembering the saying that * a young widow is like 
a log on the fire, the more she weeps the more she burns in 
the middle ' (that is to say, the more love there is in her heart), 
he set his wits to work to find a way whereby her love might 
be turned unto him. 

"Now Master Ludovico — such was his name — who came 
from Ferrara, where the people know, as the saying is, ' where 
to drive a nail in the right place as well as anybody,' began 
to tell strange tales how dead people had, when prayed to, 
left writing on windows like letters in answer, and how a 
certain man had corresponded with St. Thomas, till he judged 

i88 



THE COUSIN 189 

that Signora Isabella, the widow, was well filled with the idea, 
as a bag of nuts; and, as he expected, she said that she 
would pray to her husband for such an epistle. 

"Then Master Ludovico, who had studied the husband's 
handwriting, prepared a letter purporting to be by the deceased, 
which read thus : 

" ' Cara consorte^ — My dear wife, I am now in the other 
world, and would be at peace and happy were it not that thou 
art in such terrible grief for me. But there is a remedy for 
this, for if thou wouldst fain be here with me, take my sword 
and kill thyself, and thy soul will at once rejoin me. 

" ' But if thou hast not resolution enough to do this, then 
for Heaven's sake be quiet, and stop thy wailing, and leave me 
in peace. 

" ' And if thou wouldst wed again, which is the most sen- 
sible thing which thou canst do, and be perfectly happy, then 
marry the first man whom thou shalt meet who has just been 
wounded by a sword, for he is destined to cheer thy life. 

" ' And keep this letter a secret until that man shall have 
wedded thee. Thy loving Husband.' 

" Now the Lady Isabella ^ had a statue of her husband, 
before which she prayed every day, and Ludovico put the 
scroll or letter into its hand. And when she read it, it was in 
full faith ; for she was by nature one of the kind of whom 'tis 
said, Crederebbe che gli asini volassero ^ — she would believe that 
asses can fly, if it were gravely told So she waited for events, 
and sure enough, ere long, Ludovico entered, looking unusually 
handsome and interesting, with his arm in a sHng. 

" ' I have just been having a fine time of it, che diavolo ! ' 
he said. 'I was attacked in the street, almost before your 
very door, by a rascal who whipped out his sword, and came 
near killing me, but I caught the point on my arm. However, 
he got mine in his heart.' 

" Now, it may be noted, running on, that the proposal in 
the letter to Isabella — put so bluntly and unsentimentally — 
that she should either stop crying or else kill herself, had greatly 
checked the current of her grief; and, as is usual with such 
extravagant mourners, and all people given to show and excess 
of emotions, she was easily turned to new fancies ; and having 
determined that she would not make a hole in herself with 

^ Asinum esse avem credere. 



I90 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

the sword of her late husband, she had only to consider the 
only alternative of wedding the first man whom she should 
meet who had such a wound himself. 

" So, with great emotion, she bound up the wound, which was 
not very serious in truth, as Ludovico had inflicted it on him- 
self with a pin, and the duel had been arranged with a friend. 
And then she confided to him the letter, and they were both 
deeply touched with the strange event, and the end thereof 
was that — co//a sua astuzia potiede sposare la bella vedova — by 
his craft he won the beautiful widow, and wedded her. Moral 
— or im -moral : 

*' ' Con I'arte e con inganno 
Si vive mezzo I'anno, 
Con inganno, e con arte 
Si vive I'altra parte.' 

" ' By art and trickery, I fear, 

Most people live for half the year ; 

And by trickery and art 

They get along the other part.' " 

This is from a sixteenth century book of jests and tales, 
nor have I greatly varied it in telling. 



A LEGEND OF LA VIA DEI VELLUTI 

THE WITCH OF THE MIRROR 

" In the art of captromancy mirrors are used for magical effects. Such 
was the glass employed by Catherine di Medicis, in which, at an august 
meeting of the royal family, it was foreshown what would to each befall. 
Tunc ludii et illiidit dcemon — thus the devil deceives and receives the souls 
of those whom he cajoles by pretending to show them the future." — On 
Magical Fascination, /^jJOHN C. Fromann, 1675. 

The following tale is very correctly, though not literally^ 
translated, because the original required a little editing, 
of which ''editing," be it observed, that when a maid- 
servant, or peasant, tells a fairy-tale, it can^always be re- 
told as given, but that if th^t person were to write it out, 
it would probably require re-editing too. This tale, had 
it been received betimes, would have been classed with 
that of the Mirror and Cain, vol. i. Apropos of which 
latter an amiable reviewer asks : " Who can tell how 
much of this last is genuine ? " Marry, that can / — in 
all holy truth — for the whole is given word for word 
as written out for me. Who can tell whether the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury was not in early life a pickpocket ? 
or ; but this any honest person can tell, that base- 
less innuendo is not creditable in criticism, and should 
always be regarded with suspicion. 

" There once lived in Florence, in the Via dei Velluti, a lady 
young and beautiful, yet who was for all that a witch, who 
knew many strange and curious things, which she kept to her- 
self, for truly the cleverest witches and wizards are those who 
are the least suspected. 

" However, she had fixed her love on a certain young gentle- 



192 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

man of great family, who had a friend who was, like himself, 
much liked by everybody. Now it befell by a strange chance 
that these two met suddenly one dark night in the Piazza 
Santa Maria Novella as they turned the corner ; each, believing 
that the other was some enemy or assassin, drew his sword, and 
as they were fighting, the guards, or police, arrested them and 
took them to prison or to the Bargello. 

"Now, owing to many disorders caused by quarrels and 
frequent deaths, the Council and the Duke had strictly pro- 
hibited all duelling, and condemned to axe or halter all who 
should be found with weapons drawn. Therefore these young 
gentlemen were in great peril, since no one believed their 
story. 

"In this strait the beautiful witch, or Signorina la Maga, 
sent to the Duke an intelHgent messenger, who said : 

" ' Signore Duca, these two young gentlemen swear by the 
sword of St. Peter, who also drew blade when he was in a 
passion, that they met in the dark, neither recognising the 
other, each mistaking the other for an assailant, which may 
very well have been the truth ; and if so, it would be most cruel 
to put to death two innocent men. And the more so because 
there is a doubt in the case, of which the accused should 
always have the benefit. 

" ' Now there is here in Florence a lady who has the art of 
showing in a blessed mirror all things which have been, just 
as they were, and it seems to me that if her truth can be well 
tested in something else, it would be but just to learn from her 
how this duel or encounter really came to take place.' 

" ' Davvero ! ' replied the Duke, ' that seems to me to be but 
sensible, for I have heard wondrous tales of these magic 
mirrors, and I can easily test the lady's power. Therefore 
bid her come.' 

" So, on the evening appointed, the Duke assembled many 
ladies and gentlemen in a darkened room, awaiting the 
wonder. Then the signora burned incense, and common and 
coarse salt, and pronounced the following incantation : 

" * O Fata dalle cento Stelle, 
A te scongiuro, 

Che in questo momento ho bisogna 
Del tuo aiuto. 
Da me non possa fare, 
II mio amore voglio salvare, 
Dalla vendetta della Duca 
Che lo vole appicare, 



A LEGEND OF LA VIA DEI VELLUTI 193 

Fata delle cento Stelle, 

Ti chiamo in mio aiuto ! 

Te e la Bella Marta, 

Che quesli due giovani voglio salvare, 

II sale nella Fata delle cento Stelle, 

Si possa convertire. 

L'incensa nella bella Marta, 

E il comigno in tanti diavoli, 

Che le porte del Bargello possino aprire, 

Al mio amante e al suo compagno, 

E a tutti quelli, 

Che si trovano incalcerati.' 

" * Fairy of the Hundred Stars, 
I conjure thee. 

For in this moment I have need 
Of thine aid. 

By myself I can do naught. 

I fain would save from the vengeance of the Duke 
The one whom he would hang. 
Fairy of the Hundred Stars, 
I call on thee for aid ; 
On thee and the Beautiful Marta, 
That I may save these two young men. 
May the salt in this instant 
Change to the Fairy of the Hundred Stars, 
The incense become the Beautiful Marta, 
And the cummin a hundred devils, 
Who may open the door of the Bargello 
To my lover, and unto his friend, and unto all 
Who are imprisoned.' 

"While she said this, the salt and incense, or the smoke 
which rose from them, became two beautiful spirits, which 
were the Fairy of the Hundred Stars and the Beautiful Marta. 
Then all beheld in a great circle the Church of Santa Maria 
Novella, with the Piazza, and then the two young men, who, 
encountering blindly in the dark, drew their swords, and 
fought till the guards seized them, when all vanished in 
darkness, with the two spirits. 

"And when the room was again lighted all present were 
awed, yet charmed, at what they had seen, and the Duke said : 

" ' Truly if the fairies and imps have not already set the 
young men free, it shall be done forthwith. Yet ere it be 
effected, fair lady, I would fain test the truth of thine art 
more closely. Canst thou show me what I myself was doing 
at that very hour of that night ? ' 

" Yes, your highness ; but it may be that this is a thing that 
others should not know.' 

II N 



194 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" ' Konsense,' replied the Duke ; ' I care not if all the Court 
knows it; and I am sure that half of them do, who will 
assuredly tell the other half.' 

"Then the witch darkened the room, and the Duke saw 
himself, as did all present, embracing a very beautiful lady.^ 
At which there was a roar of laughter, in which the Duke 
joined. 

" ' But it seems to me,' said the Duke aside, sotfo voce, to 
the witch, ' that while this lady bears an extraordinary likeness 
to my friend of that evening, still it is not exactly the same 
person.' 

" 'Speak lower, your highness,' exclaimed the witch, 'and I 
will tell you a secret — and the truth. 

" 'That lady whom you thought you had met, had on that 
evening another affair on hand, or other fish to fry. So she 
sent her twin sister in her place, thinking that you would never 
find it out ! ' 

" ' Dia-volo I ' cried the Duke. ' It appears that I, thinking 
to eat veal, devoured chicken without knowing it. 

" ' I always liked the other sister best, but never dared 
make love to her, thinking she was such a virtue. And now 
I have made love to her in very deed and never knew it. 

" ' Ah, well ! a fair exchange is no robbery. True it is what 
I have often heard : 

" The ways of Fate are wonderful and deep, 
Fortune to many comes while they're asleep." ' " 

I would have omitted this tale, were it not so interest- 
ing as containing a veritable invocation to the Fairy of 
the Hundred Stars, as well as to the mysterious Bella 
Marta, of whom much is said in my Etruscan-Roman 
Legends. The length of the incantation and the details 
of the magical ingredients used indicate that this story, 
in its original simplicity, was composed by witches for 
witches, or to teach a formula. 

There is no rational cause to doubt that all which is 
narrated in this story might have occurred. A magic- 
lantern would explain it all, and the readers of the Life 
of Benvenuto Cellini will recall that that wise and good 

^ A letto con una bellissima signora. 



A LEGEND OF LA VIA DEI VELLUTI 195 

and great man believed that he had seen "wonders 
upon wonders " in the way of devils in ' the Coliseum, 
which were all called into being by the aid of slides and 
lenses. Were I a juggler — or a millionaire — I would hire 
the Coliseum for a night to do that raising of the devils 
again ! 

" Truly, I ween," adds Flaxius, " that there would be less 
witchcraft in women, and also much less wickedness, if there 
were fewer mirrors. For it is by ogling, wooing and cooing, 
admiring and smiling at themselves in glasses, that so many 
lasses come to live in but one idea, that of their own beauty 
or sweet expression, and how many people in the world must 
needs be mashed therewith. Which idea, well and thoroughly 
settled in the brain of any she-Narcissus — ve/ asina — (and God 
wot there be many of them !) — reduces her intellect to that of 
an animal, as is the case with all who think more of the body 
than the soul. Dunque^ beviamo I " 



LA DIAVOLINA 

A LEGEND OF LA VIA DEL FIORE 



" And there were roses growing there 
White and red like maids in bloom, 
"Which ever sang in the summer air 

A song of sweet perfume, 
For a scent is a song to him who knows 
What the flower utters when it blows." — C. G. L. 



In V Illustratore FiorentionOy Calendario per ranno 
1838, the following legend is briefly narrated, as matter 
of authentic history, and as taken from a manuscript 
^^ della Riccardiana, segnato di No. 2124," with the 
statement that the event recorded in it took place in the 
year 1562. To which it is added that the street was 
named La Via del Fiore per 'tnemoria di tal fatto. The 
points of difference between the authenticated story and 
the same as it is told among the people are very remark- 
able, and constitute, as I hope to show, the real interest 
of the whole. As told and written for me the latter is 
as follows, verbatim : 

La Via del Fiore. 

" There once dwelt in this street a woman who was called 
by all who knew her La Diavolina, or She-Devil, because 
she quarrelled day and night with everybody, men, women, 
and children, and the cause of all this was that she had a 
daughter. 

" This girl was one who would have gladly been beautiful, 
but was naturally very ugly — so ugly that all who beheld 
her, la scansevano, shrank back with repugnance. And when 

the poor girl saw that others were invited to dances and 

196 



LA DIAVOLINA 197 

all kinds of festivities, while she was left out, and that other 
girls had lovers and she none, she became utterly miser- 
able, and said to her mother : ' Why did you not let me die 
when I was a babe, since you saw that I was so ugly ? Thou 
art beautiful, but I shall never have a husband.' 

"Now when a woman is very beautiful, yet has a temper 
of the very devil, and an ugly child with it all, some witch- 
craft is never wanting in her, and La Diavolina, who well 
knew the cause why her child was cursed with such ugli- 
ness — as witches' children often are — seeing her daughter 
become ill with grief, was seized with such rage and spite 
that she resolved to be revenged on all the girls and young 
men who made the young girl so unhappy. 

" Having a small garden, she planted in it a beautiful rose- 
bush, which she enchanted (/e am/to), and the incantation 
was such that the roses gave out a wonderfully strong perfume 
and delightful beyond all belief, but if a girl smelt it she 
would certainly quarrel with her lover, and if a young man, 
he would do the same with his inamorata.^ 

" It was on a night during the Carnival that La Diavolina 
planted the rose-bush, and the next morning it was in full 
bloom with the most beautiful flowers, which sent forth such 
a perfume that it was noticed by all the neighbours, some of 
whom finally saw the plant from their windows. And all 
became mad to obtain a rose, yet were either afraid of La 
Diavolina, or averse to speak to her daughter, whom they had 
treated so unkindly ; therefore they resolved on what is gene- 
rally regarded as the easiest and cheapest course — that is, to 
steal them ; and remembering the proverb that it is difficult — 
rubare ruovo sotto la gallina — to prig an egg from under a 
hen, they waited till the hen had gone away from her nest, 
or until La Diavolina had quitted the house. 

"But as il diavolo e sottile^ e fila grosso — the devil is fine 
but spins coarse, or is very crafty when he gives away — so too 
is a diavolina, for the witch foresaw all this, and left the garden 
gate open that they might come in and steal freely, which 
they did, going in as softly as cats into a dairy, and coming 
out smelling like perambulating perfumers' shops, with roses 
hidden in their bosoms — ben celate I — e la maledizione addosso 
— and the curse stealing after them. For there was to be a 

^ It may here be observed that there are scents or chemical substances 
which produce extreme irritation and ill-temper, and that these, known 
more or less to witches everywhere, are especially used by the Voodoo. 



198 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

ball that evening, and every one wanted a rose for himself or 
his girl, and some both. 

" Now there was another charm' at work, and it was this, 
that the spell of jealousy, hatred, and ill-temper being taken 
from the ugly girl, her mother was able to so act on her as to 
give her a certain charm, and then beauty, for by witchcraft 
people can be enchanted into anything if they are first fasd- 
nated. And it came about thus : 

" All the youths and girls of the Via del Fiore who had the 
stolen roses did nothing but quarrel, flout one another, gibe, 
jeer, sneer, curse, and quarrel, like a bottle full of black scor- 
pions, in a worse temper than a pack of devils in a holy-water 
font, so that smiles became as scarce among them as white 
flies, and frowns as common as black ones. Now it occurred 
to them all, by a kindred feeling of ill-temper, to confide all 
their spite and quarrelsome secrets to the ugly girl, whose 
name was Rosina, and she, finding that having a lover meant 
having a bitter foe, and that being a belle was no better than 
being a beast, felt wonderfully consoled, and began to smile 
and be happy, and to grow pretty, since there is no way in 
the world so easy to get anything as not to want it. For, as 
the saying is, when Pietro no longer wanted money, the next 
day his aunt died and left him a fortune. 

"Then there was another ball, and as the saying is, guerra 
cominciata, rinferno scatenato — war begun, hell let loose ; so all 
the young folk of the Via del Fiore quarrelled ten times worse 
than before, while those of the other streets kept their temper, 
and made love cosily, and wondered what the devil had come 
over their friends — the end thereof being a general cutting of 
the whole party of those who wore roses. 

" But the mother of one of the girls of the Via del Fiore, who 
was very observant, and knew how many loaves it took to 
make three, observed that the marvellous roses which never 
faded, no matter how long they were kept, and whose delicious 
scent spread as far as a girl could see a fine dress on another 
girl (which is a mile in fine weather), were all worn by those 
who were in such a bad temper that everybody began to call 
them the indiavolafe, or * bedevilled,' and this made her think 
of La Diavolina. Which having done, she at once smelt of 
one of the roses, and immediately felt herself impelled to call 
her daughter a sfacciatella infafna e civetta del diavolo, e da piu 
una cagnetta, which words mean in brief ' a shameless minx ; ' 
to which the daughter promptly replied by informing her parent 



LA DIA VOLINA 199 

that she was a brutia vecchiaccia, an old broom, a disgusting old 
cow, and other objects, the whole being more suggestive of the 
Mercato Vecchio than of the commandment to honour thy 
parents. Then the mother saw exactly how it was, and ' took 
the measure of the business with a spoon,' as the Romagnoli 
say, for until these roses had come into the market the damsel 
had been a pattern of modesty and love. 

" Then this mother quietly persuaded the young people to go 
to the ball without their roses, which they did ; and that even- 
ing all went as smooth and fair as a pond by sunlight when 
there is no breeze, and not a duck to ruffle its surface. And 
therefore there was a fearful raging at La Diavolina, and it was 
all the worse because no one could now revile her daughter 
as ugly, for by this witchery she had become the most beau- 
tiful girl in the quarter, and it came to pass that she rolled the 
river in which they would fain drown her, back on them all. 
For, they having accused La Diavolina of sorcery before the 
tribunal, she replied that it was absurd, because, firstly, nothing 
was the matter with them ; and, secondly, she had given them 
nothing, and that, if the smell of the roses had made them 
quarrel, she had nothing to do with it, because they had 
broken into her garden and stolen her flowers, very much 
against her will. For, as she said and pled, like any old 
lawyer, ' Three things are needed to make a pudding : volere, 
potere^ e sapere — to want, to be able, and to know how to do it ; 
and as it was beyond all question that she had shown no will 
or wish to make this pudding, the whole cooking of it came 
not unto her.' 

"So La Diavolina was acquitted, and her daughter married 
un bel giovane del tribunale — a fine young man of the tribunal ; 
and so she was happy and rich, which good fortune was an 
endless grief and cruel affliction to all the other dear girls of 
her acquaintance, who bitterly regretted that they had brought 
her into court, since it had only ended in her being happily 
courted." 

This tale is more curious than would at first appear, 
and, to explain it, I will give the original and more tragic 
tale, as told in the Chronicle : 

"We read that in the year 1562 a woman surnamed La 
Diavolina, who had a very deformed daughter, who was in 
consequence avoided by her own sex and not Hked by the 



200 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

other — the girl being therefore, as the saying is, senza il damo, 
or without a beau, and seeing all the others invited to balls and 
entertainments — determined to bewitch a rose-bush which she 
had in a vase, and to give the roses, by the aid of her daughter, 
to different young girls who lived in the same street. Which 
being discovered by a priest. La Diavolina was accused before 
the tribunal of the Inquisition, and by that tribunal punished. 
And in memory of this event that street was called La Via 
del Fiore^ 

To be accused before the Inquisition of witchcraft in 
1562, at a time when Holy Mother Church was in the 
full bloom of mercy, sweetness, Hght, tenderness, wis- 
dom, and power, had but one meaning, the extreme of 
torture and death by fire — convicta et combusta. This is, 
however, the very opposite of the tale as it was told to 
me, the reason being that, like a very great number of 
all stories which are not of the nursery kind, it has been 
preserved by witches, who, with true anti- Church in- 
stincts (as shown in many cases in my Etruscan-Roman 
Legends), have made the sorceress get the best of it, just 
as in gypsy tales the thief always escapes in safety with 
the plunder. 

But, in all witch tales, the narrative is only a frame for 
some peculiar doctrine or principle, which is generally 
explained b^^ the narrator after the story is told. Thus 
in many of the Etruscan- Roman Legends the incantation 
and ceremony forms the chief portion of the whole. In 
this the kernel is the behef that to get a spell or charm to 
work for evil or for good, the subject must \i^ fascinated — 
that is, charmed or pleased ; an idea still popular in the 
word to charm, which means to please, as to a degree it 
also does to fascinate or enchant. This done, anything 
could be done. The incantation must be sweetly and 
softly sung, if possible with gentle music, so as to soothe, 
on which I could cite from a score of learned men of all 
the ages. The diavolina wishes in this story to make her 
daughter beautiful, but cannot do it till she has brought 



LA DIAVOLINA 201 

her into a cheerful mood — a difficult thing with a girl 
whose whole nature had been embittered. As in the 
" Golden Ass " of Apuleius, the key of the spell is the rose 
— and here I may briefly remark that I have more than 
once been reminded of that work in this tale. The 
steahng the roses from the enchanted garden is an old 
myth, and the rose is especially a witch-like flower, 
because, while it is beautiful and sweet-scented, it has 
also the hidden thorns which are above all things known 
as the type of witches' revenge. 

I do not know whether I have made it clear to the 
reader, but there is most certainly in this whole story, 
apart from all imagination, a marvellous under-current 
of mysterious witch-lore, such as was believed to con- 
stitute deep wisdom and learning in the days of old. As 
in the old German legend, the sorceress Chrimhilde, who 
was herself a true diavolina^ is in the end revenged on 
those who broke into her rose-garden. 

" 'Tis touching — stirring to a pitying smile, even such as we 
to earnest children give," writes Flaxius, "to note how our 
author labours in full and simple faith — a la mode Germanorum 
— among his witch-tribunals, and Nuremberg Latinists, and old 
German Rose-Gartens, and God only knows what forgotten 
and dusty rubbish and refuse of that Teutonic rococo age which 
was the very quincaillerie^ or Trodlerei^ lumber-room, trash- 
basket, and rudera^ or old iron and rag shop of the Middle 
Ages, to establish unearthly mystery in a matter which I trow 
the local policeman, or any male or female vaurien of the 
vicinity, would have explained ' short order.' For that that old 
Diavolina had some roses in a garden I can well believe ; 
also that they were surreptitiously prigged — Italian prendere^ 
vulgarised — yea, and it may be that she had doctored them 
with devil's pepper, as is often done; but whether there was 
any viagic in it all I gravely doubt. However, let it pass ; 'tis 
all amusing — story, author and all ! " 



THE BAT 

A LEGEND OF LA VIA LAMBERTESCA 

*• Now, as ye may see by Horus Apollo (ii. 53) and Pierius Valerianus, 
(L. 25, p. 251), the Bat is a wondrous beast, and because it is the only bird 
(as they esteemed it) which has breasts and suckles its young, they ex- 
pressed by its figure, or hieroglyph, a nursing mother." — Friedrich. 

" Bats abhor the plane-tree and ivy. For Alcithoe and the Sisters of 
Lucothse are said by Ovid to have despised the rites of Bacchus, for which 
they were turned into bats, whence they so hate ivy that it kills them. 
Therefore it was hung up to drive them away." — Curiosus Amuleto7-um 
Scrutator^ 1692. 

" Ficordomi d' avei^ ndito dire — I do remember to have heard 
it said — that there was once in Florence a young man who 
Hved in the Via Lambertesca, in the old tower there, from 
which the top is gone. And he, as many had done before 
him, fell in love with and married a beautiful girl — as it is to 
be hoped that many more will do, so long as it pleaseth God. 

" But there was another young lady who loved this gentleman, 
and she was nearly mad with rage and jealousy ; nor was it 
much helped by her being a witch, who, like all her kind, had 
more fire and more fuel, tenfold, than any ordinary woman ; 
that is to say, she had all the passions of a she-devil and abun- 
dant means to gratify them. 

" So the first thing she did was to bind or render impotent the 
bridegroom (of which there are many ways, with needles and 
keys, knots, and so on) ; but, however she did it, the young man 
every night on going to bed became cold and stiff as a corpse, 
nor did he recover from this till the next day, and then till 
night remained very weak and ill. 

" Then his wife, thinking there was evil in all this, went to 
consult a wise old man who dwelt up in the mountains of 
Vallombrosa, and he said to her : 

" ' Your husband is surely stregato e legato — bewitched and 
bound. When he goes to bed make him turn all his clothes 
inside out. Hang up ivy, plane-leaves i^pldtano\ and sprinkle 
holy water all about.' 



THE BAT 203 

"All of this was done with great care, and a little while 
after, the windows being left open, there flew into the room 
an enormously large bat. The signore drew his sword, and 
closing the windows, chased it about. Then the eyes of the 
bat shot fire, and it made a loud, shrieking sound which was 
truly horrible. But when it swooped down as if to attack the 
wife, the young lord struck it with his sword, and it fell flutter- 
ing and dying to the ground. 

" The gentleman felt in an instant that he was cured, and 
taking up the bat, he carried it out and threw it into a large 
adjacent closet. 

" But when he looked for it in the morning, he found no 
bat lying in the closet, but the dead body of the witch. " 

After the foregoing story had been literally translated 
as here given, I found it, with no great difference, in a 
very curious and rare work entitled Compendio delV 
VArte Esorcistica (which is remarkable as not containing 
any exorcisms), Venice, 160 1, in which it is credited to 
a Paolo Ghirlandaio (de Sortilegiis). The difference in 
the tales as told is, that in the Ghirlandaian version 
there is a far greater display of red fire, a thousand 
demons, and screams unspeakable, while the witch who 
has worked the spell and made the bridegroom as a 
thing of naught, appears in person and is driven away. 
Nevertheless, if we accept the definition in London slang 
of a bat as ^^an evil woman who appears only by night," 
it may be granted that there is truly a vespertilio in both, 
and that the two stories agree in everything. 

" Which ancient tale," adds Flaxius, " teacheth this : that 
cunning and crafty folk, especially those who use their small wits 
for mischief, are seldom wise — a thing that many ' sharps,' 
and others thereto, would do well to lay to heart, mark, learn, 
and inwardly digest, unto a residuum. For this vespertilio 
or bat-witch, had she been wise, would have anticipated a 
counter-stroke in the game, and not doing so, came to grief. 
Wherein there is a lesson of great import even for diplo- 
matists, who are the most successful when wise and honest, 
and who, as in the cases of Talleyrand and Napoleon, make 
their signal mistakes in attempting petty cunning." 



DELBERTO 



That man is like a falcon on the wing 

Who makes the best of every earthly thing, 

For as he rises higher still and higher, 

He sees more clearly what he doth require 

And wins more readily his heart's desire." — C. G. L. 



The following story is given just as I received it, that is 
to say, the exact narrative^ but I have told it my own 
way, even as Maddalena did when she wrote it, or as 
she did who gave it to Maddalena, and so on upward, 
unto time when the record of man runneth not to the 
contrary, in the days of the Father of the Father of the 
Beginnings, as the Cabalists have it. And truly I 
cannot see why, since everybody else has told a tale 
— Heaven only knows how long, his or her own way — 
I should be called on to depart from good old-fashion 
usage and custom. Ladies and gentlemen will now 
listen to the pleasing tale of Delberto ! 

"There was once a very wise and learned old man, who 
was also a great magician. After many years he grew tired 
of mortal life. 

"He had an honest servant named Delberto, a youth of 
kind heart, and to him the old man said : 

" ' I am about to die, figlio mio, and I wish thee a happy 
life. But remember it is far better to make a fortune than to 
receive it as a gift, and bear in mind what the proverb says : 

** Chi ha, spende, 

Chi ha fatto non lo rende ; 
Fortunato e colui 
Chi impara a spese d'altrui." 
204 



DELBERTO 205 

*' He who hath gold may spend it light. 
He who hath earned it holds it tight ; 
He's fortunate in every sense 
Who learns at other men's expense." 

" ' Therefore, my son, I will not leave thee a fortune, but 
something far better ; and that is the power difare sempre del 
cattivo il ineglio — to change what is bad into good. Keep it a 
secret ; guard it as thy life : 

" Bocca chiusa e occhio aperto, 
Non fe mai nessun disserto." 

** A shut mouth and open eye 
Never yet made any sigh." ' 

" Then the old man died, and Delberto went forth into the 
world. But he did not as yet understand the gift of the old 
magician, thinking it was only good advice to make the best 
of everything. 

"But one day, when examining his shoes, which were be- 
ginning to break out, and were sadly worn, he said, without 
thinking : ' I wish that these shoes were better, for they are 
well-nigh as bad as can be ; ' when in an instant they became a 
beautiful new pair, 

" ' Grazie a Dio I ' cried Pelberto ; ' I wish that my clothes 
were bettered in the same style;' and the garments became 
immediately handsome and new. 

"Still it did not occur to J him that he could do more than 
this with his power, but only that out of this he could get a 
living. So he went about the country crying : 

" ' Vecchi abiti rifatti ! — Old clothes made new ! ' 

" So the peasants brought him all their worn-out coats and 
tattered trousers, and ragged skirts, and torn shoes, and he 
renewed them perfectly, to the amazement of everybody, till 
he began to have his pockets full of money. 

"One day he met on the road a good but very poor old 
man, who had a wretched donkey, which had gone quite lame 
and could not move. 

" ' O signore ! ' cried the old man, shedding tears, ' this 
ass is my whole means of making a living, and now I am 
ruined ! ' 

" Delberto fixed his eyes firmly on the beast, and touching 
it, said : 

" ' Become better ! Be large, and strong, and handsome. 
Better and better ! ' 



2o6 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" And at once the ass became the finest in all Tuscany, a 
perfect marvel. 

" ' Be/ signore into 1 ' cried the old man, amazed, ' thou art 
the greatest cattle-doctor in the world. There lives not far 
away, in a castle, a great lord, who is a good soul and a merry, 
though he be noisy and blustering in his jests. He has 
many horses, and he said to me lately that he was in despair 
because he could not find a manescalco, or farrier, worth a 
soldo. Go to him and see what you can do.' 

"So Delberto went, and after he had improved a number 
of wretched hacks and jades into magnificent steeds, the lord 
proposed to the marvellous horse-doctor to remain with him. 
Then the master bought up all the lame and blind and good- 
for-nothing screws in the country at a good price, so that they 
came by dozens daily, and Delberto bettered them all, so that, 
sharing equally with the signore, both grew rich. 

" The old lord was a boon companion, and one night, when 
drinking with Delberto, he said : 

" ' This wine from my estate is sorry trash ; one would say 
that il diavola P ha pisciato. I wish it were better.' 

" 'Signore,' replied Delberto, 'I am something of a chemist 
as well as a horse-doctor. Perhaps something can be done 
here. Let me try.' 

" And exerting his power, he made the bad wine into some 
which was most delicate and exquisite. The old signore 
drank till he had drained a mighty goblet, smacked his lips, 
and cried : 

''^ '■ Benedetto tu sia — te e la panda che ti ha partorito ! 
Blessed be thou and the mother who bore thee ! ' For he 
loved good wine like a German. Then he drained another 
cup and cried : 

" ' Truly, I have an idea ! — The devil behead me if I don't 
buy up all the bad wine in the country! Che buon gusto I 
— Ah, what a taste it has ! We know : 

" II vino al sapore, 
E la donna al colore." 

" By its taste the wine is known, 
But woman by her hue alone." 

" ' My son, I swear to thee, if thou canst play this trick when 
thou wilt, we shall become richer than the Pope, and we will 
not call the Cardinals our cousins. Verily I say unto thee, 



DELBERTO 207 

that he who can change bad horses into good, and sour wine 
into nectar like this, non e lontano del regno del cielo! 

" ' Ah ! 'tis a great pity that thou canst not do as much for 
women, and turn brutes into belles. Yea, I myself have a 
daughter — poor girl ! She is clever and wise and learned, good 
as a saint, talks wondrous well, paints, and plays all instru- 
ments, but so ugly ! Truly, simple ugliness is not the word ; 
'tis the very hideousness of horror. She will never go to the 
lower world, that is certain, for all the devils would run at 
seeing her — e brutta da far scappare i diavoli. For that reason 
thou hast never seen her, because the poor child never goes 
forth, for fear of frightening the scarecrows.' 

"Then Delberto had an idea, and said to himself: 'Who 
knows ? Girls, I believe, are very much the same as fillies ; ' 
and turning to the signore, he cried : 

" ' Let me see your daughter.' 

" Now, from living so long with the magician, he had learned 
to know by sight when an evil spell had been cast on any one ; 
and when he beheld the young lady, who was indeed appalling 
to look at, his heart was touched with pity, and he thought : 
'This poor young lady has been bewitched; truly I never 
dreamed or believed the devil had such power, or that evil 
could do such work.' But not wishing to go too far at once, 
he only willed as he looked firmly at her that she should 
become a httle better-looking. 

"And at that instant her eyes grew large and beautiful, 
flashing forth such a winning glance that her father cried, 
' Cospetto di Venere ! ' while her hands grew small and beauti- 
ful, and ivory-white. 

" Then the next day he charmed all her face and form into 
beauty, a little every day, until he had made her the loveliest 
girl in all Italy ; and while doing this he found that she indeed 
well deserved it, for her mind and heart were all good, as her 
father had declared. And so he loved her truly from his 
heart. 

" * So you want to marry my daughter ! ' cried the jolly old 
signore when Delberto asked him for leave to wed. * Thanks 
to you a thousand times, my son, for taking from me the ugliest 
girl in Italy. Want her hand, do you ? Well, you may have 
it, and with it tutte le altre parte della sua persona — and all 
the rest of her with it. Beviamo — let us drink ! 

" ' I made, and thou hast re-made, her — yea, much better 
than new, O my son ! and therefore art thou welcome to 



2o8 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

our work. Fa bene — beviamo dunque — 'tis well indeed, and 
let us drink again ; that is another miracle of thine, and not 
thy worst. Son-in-law, if thou art not a little god, thou art at 
least il piu buon diavolo — the best devil in the world ! 



) » 



" This tale should teach us," quoth our Flaxius, " that even 
without magic power all people can make life blessed and 
happy by simply making the best of everything. For it was 
ever true, and aye will be — sic in perpetuum — while time rolls 
on — that all who earnestly seek and choose what is good will 
find more of it than the howlers, growlers, and scowlers, albeit 
the latter are, to their own loss, so terribly in the majority. 

"O my excellent friend Grumbler, sir or madame — man, 
what the devil aileth thee and thine, that ye must ever at all 
times look at the worst, and find some fault with all ? Know 
ye not that he who seeketh stinks will find malaria, and that 
those who call the devil bring him? No man did ever yet 
found a law or religion on this, the holiest of truths : to cheer- 
fully, gladly and gaily, make the best of everything, and yet in 
it lies the best Bible ever dreamed of — sic in perpetuum ! " 



DIANA 

"Diana, la vaga dea, la casta luna, la regina della caccia a cui i poeti 
greci e romani antichi attribuivano le piu elette qualita, come bellezza, 
eleganza, seduzione, fascino, che divennero poi proverbial!, fu dai primi 
apostoli del Cristianismo appellata col nome di Dea delle Strege." — Lady 
Vere de Vere, La Comunitd, delle Strege^ La Rivista. 

It was not from books, but from a fortune-teller and 
witch in Florence, that I first learned that Diana is re- 
garded as queen of all the witches ; but I soon found 
that a number of writers in Latin, German, and Italian 
had recorded the same as a matter of popular belief from 
the fifth to the sixteenth century. This appears among the 
declarations of the Church Council of Ancyra, A.D. 450. 

^'That Diana Hecate was queen of the witches in 
classic times is known from many authors. She was 
compared, as goddess of the moon, to a cat which drove 
the star-mice. Herein she was like Bubastis, the cat- 
goddess of Egypt ; and Freya, of the North, whose car 
is drawn by cats, is clearly a Norse Diana " (Etruscan- 
Roman Remains^ p. 151). I could, indeed, fill many 
pages with citations from classic and mediaeval authors 
which prove the ancient belief that Diana was queen of 
the witches, also of cats, and that as a cat she drove the 
starry mice. 

Having asked a witch in Florence to find out what she 
could on the subject of Diana, I received the following, 
which I translate verbatim : 

Diana. 

" Diana was a very beautiful lady, who fell in love with her 
own brother, but he would not comply with her desire. Then 
she had recourse to sorceresses, and one of these, hearing her 
complaint, and the whole story of her wild passion, instead of 

II. 209 o 



2IO LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

reproving, applauded her, and advised her to become a witch, 
saying that by so doing all her wishes would be gratified. 

" Diana was much pleased at this, and said that she would 
very willingly become one of her friends, and she took to 
witchcraft with her whole heart and soul, going daily to 
meetings of fairies (fate) and witches. And it soon occurred 
to her that her beloved brother had a very beautiful cat, 
which he loved extremely, and which slept every night on his 
bed. Then Diana changed forms with the cat, and managed 
it so that she had her will. And when in the morning the 
brother found out the truth he was indeed angry, but Diana 
contrived with her wiles to so charm him that he yielded 
to her love. 

" Now Diana had such passion for witchcraft, and became 
so mighty in it, that one night, at the meeting of all the 
sorceresses, she declared she would darken the heavens and 
turn all the stars into mice. Then all the/afe, or witches, said : 
* If thou canst do that, thou shalt be indeed queen of us all.' 

" Then Diana went forth into the street, and took the 
bladder of an ox and a (certain) coin,^ wherewith witches 
cut the ground whereon passers-by have trodden, and with 
such cut-earth and many mice she filled the bladder, and 
going into a wood, she blew into the bladder till it burst, and 
lo, a great wonder ! for the earth became heaven, and for three 
days there was a great rain of mice, and the mice became 
stars or rain. And thus Diana made the heaven and stars 
and the rain, so great was her power, out of earth and mice, 
and so it was she became queen of the witches." 

There is in lav^ both direct and collateral evidence, 
and by the latter — that is to say, from classic records in 
books of which my chronicler knew nothing whatever — 
it is unquestionable that every part of this story or poem 
is of great antiquity. Diana is the Moon, and there is 
no myth so widely spread as that which makes the Moon 
the mistress of her brother the Sun, or vice versd. This 

1 Evidently the moneta delle strege, an old Roman bronze coin of a certain 
kind with a sharp edge. I have never seen but one, which was sold me for 
witch-money, and which is now in my possession. The saying by Diana 
in the previous paragraph, that she would change the stars into mice, is a 
manifest error by Maddalena, or rather by the old woman from whom she 
obtained it. As the tale shows, Diana did the contrary, or changed mice 
into stars. 



DIANA 211 

in the Italian story leads to her becoming a witch, and 
as I have elsewhere shown in the chapter on Intialo, 
first series (as Michelet also did in La Sorci^re)^ such 
defiance of law and custom was of itself a law among 
wizards. 

The connection of Diana with cats and mice I have 
already pointed out. But the creation of the heaven and 
stars and rain from a handful of earth and mice and 
Diana's breath is extremely archaic. It will occur to 
every scholar that it is simply impossible that this could 
be a modern creation. I believe it to be, like a vast 
number of these tales and traditions, a fragment of 
classic lore which has escaped classic record, or any 
writers, and a poem sunk to prose. For there was 
unquestionably a general, genial spirit of creation of 
mythic tales, sorceries, and quaint observances in ancient 
Italy among the people, and very little interest, if any, 
taken in it by literary men, until it had passed into the 
orthodox or High Church belief, or included, so to speak, 
in the recognised Scripture, the Metamorphoses of Ovid 
being proof of this. And I am not without the hope 
that the critical scholarship of a future time will deter- 
mine that among these traditions — which I have gathered 
with great pains, be it said — there are many remains of 
this unwritten ancient mythology. 

Allied to this is a short tradition, in which we have 
Diana as the lunar goddess of Chastity. It was given 
to me by the name of Fana, but my informant also said 
that it might be Tana. As Tana appears distinctly in 
still another tale, I am confident that it is the true name : 

Tana, la Dea della Luna. ■ 

" Tana was very beautiful indeed, but extremely poor, and 
as modest and pure as she was beautiful and humble. She 
went from one contadino^ or farm-house, to another to work, 
and thus led an honest life. Now there was a very ugly, 



212 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

bestial, brutish fellow who was, after his fashion, raging with 
love for her, but she could not bear to so much as look at 
him, and repelled all his advances. 

" But late one night, when she was returning alone from the 
farm-house where she had worked to her home, this man, who 
had hidden himself in a thicket, leaped out on her and cried : 
^ JVon mi sfuggirai ; sarai mia ! — Thou canst not flee; mine 
thou shalt be.' 

" And seeing no help near, and only the full moon looking 
down on her from heaven, Tana, in despair, cast herself on her 
knees, and cried to it : 

" * I have no one on earth to defend me, 
Thou alone seest me in this strait ; 
Therefore I pray to thee, O Moon ! 
As thou art beautiful so art thou bright, 
Flashing thy splendour over all mankind ; 
Even so I pray thee enlighten the mind 
Of this poor ruffian who would wrong me here, 
Even to the worst. Cast light into his soul, 
That he may let me be in peace, and then 
Return all in thy light unto my home ! ' 

"When she had said this, there appeared before her a 
bright but shadowy form — una ombra bianca — which said : 

' ' ' Rise and go to thy home ; 

Thou hast well deserved this grace. 
No one shall trouble thee more, 
Purest of all on earth ! 
When thou dost pass away, 
Thou shalt a goddess be, 
The goddess of the Moon, 
Of all enchantment, queen ! ' 

" Thus it came to pass that Tana became the dea or spirit 
of the moon." 

Though the air be set to a different key, this is a poem 
of pure melody, and the same as Wordsworth's ^' Goody 
Blake and Harry Gill." Both Tana and the old dame 
are surprised and terrified ; both pray to a power above : 

"The cold, cold moon above her head, 
Thus on her knees did Goody pray ; 
Young Harry heard what she had said, 
And icy-cold he turned away." 



DIANA 213 

The dramatic centre is just the same in both. The 
English ballad turns into an incurable fit of ague inflicted 
on the offending young boor — the Italian witch-poetess, 
with finer sense, casts the brute aside without further 
mention, and apotheosises the maiden, identifying her 
with the moon. The former is more practical and 
probable, the latter more poetical. 

Thana was the Etruscan Diana, and as I have shown 
in my work on Etruscan-Roman Legends, all the names 
of the old gods, now known as folletti or spirits, still sur- 
vive, though rapidly perishing, in the Northern Italian 
mountain country. 

It is worth noting that sundry old writers trace back 
the witch-sabbats, or wild orgies, worshippings of Satan, 
and full-moon frolics to the festivals of Diana. Thus 
Despina declares : 

" It was customary of old to celebrate the nightly rites of 
Diana with mad rejoicing and the wildest or most delirious 
dancing and sound {prdine ^contrario sen prcBpostero), and all 
kinds of licentiousness, and with these rites as partakers were 
popularly identified the Dryads of the forests, the Napseoe of 
the fountains, the Oreads of the mountains, nymphs, and all 
false gods." 

If we add to this that all kinds of outlaws and children 
of the night, such as robbers and prostitutes, worshipped 
Diana-Hecate as their patron saint and protectress, we 
can well beheve that this was the true cause and origin 
of the belief still extremely current or at least known 
even among the people in Florence, that Diana was the 
queen of the witches. 

In a fresco of the fourteenth century in the Palazzo 
Publico in Siena, Diana is represented with a bat flying 
under her, to indicate night and sorcery. 

"Tis a strange thing," remarks the subtly cynical Italian 
Flaxius, " that antiquity, while it publicly treated Diana as the 
goddess of Chastity, and all that was stately and cold, ever 



214 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

had a shrewd suspicion that she was chaste, i.e., chased or run 
after by divers lovers, unto whom she was not unkind; for 
instance, Virbio and Endymion. Yea, Byron observed that 
the virtuous moon beholds more naughtiness than the sun, 
and Shelley hath poetised this slander boldly. But it is truly 
remarkable that all of this same suspicion is carried out in detail 
by many of these witch-legends, from which the inference may 
be indeed drawn, that in them are preserved many genuine 
relics of classical antiquity not recorded by the orthodox writers. 
In them all she is the nocturnal Venus, the dea vaga." 

Et post scriptmn — a very severe reviev^er of the first 
series of these Legends tartly informed the author that 
he might have made of them " a pretty fairy-book." Yea, 
hovi^ beautifully this of Diana, or the one before it, or 
the predecessor of that, or La Diavolinay might have 
been adapted to the nursery or Sunday-school ! Just 
the thing — and yet our author has encumbered them with 
comment which puts them far beyond all infant reach ! 
Truly there are cleverer men than he who can indeed 
write blue and green fairy-tales; but those which are 
gathered among witches are rather of the colour of an 
owl's eyes, or noir du diable, or the more fleeting hue 
of the Sabbat, ^^for which no sorcerer ever found a 



THE DREAMS OF GUALTIERO 

*' I had a dream which was not all a dream." — Byron. 
" Sogno d'infermi, e fola di romanzi." — Proverbi di Frediani, 1694. 
" Significari volentes ,'aliquem nihil ad propositum respondere, nihil que 
agere, dicere solemus, '/w sogniy — Angela Monosini, 1604. 

The following tale is truly translated from the Italian, 
but no reader will, I suppose, fail to detect the few 
touchings-up which I was compelled to make in a good 
story very badly, yea, laughingly, told. 

" There was once a Florentine of great family and fortune, 
who had but one trouble in life, and that was his dreams, 
which were so varied and vivid, and wild and strange, that 
they wearied him more than his waking, and sleep gave him 
no rest. 

" One day an old signore, who was to him a great friend, 
who was in secret learned in magic, and indeed a wizard, said 
to him : 

" ' Amico Gualtiero, I see with sorrow that thou sufferest, and 
I know the cause. Now I will tell thee what to do to have 
peace once more. 

" ' When thou goest to bed lay verbena under thy pillow, 
and say : 

" ' lo vo nella terra tenebrosa, 
Sia ridente o lacrimosa, 
Chi mi place, che che sia, 
Lo portero a casa mia.' 

•* ' Into the land of shadows I go, 
Be it sad or merry it must be so ; 
And whatever I see, if it pleases me, 
I will carry off and away with me.' 

" ' Then if in a dream you see anything which you like, 
touch it with your finger, and say, " Vieni ! — Come!" And 
from that instant it will be thine.' 



2i6 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" That very night Gualtiero found himself, in his dream, in a 
great and magnificent hall, crowded with gentlemen and ladies, 
who seemed to be all particularly bent on treating him with 
every injury and indignity, as if he had been a dog or some 
detestable wretch. The ladies drew away their trains as he 
approached, as if fearing lest they should be contaminated by 
the touch, while the signori kicked and buffeted him, one 
and all. 

" In this familiar party of the dream — nel/a conversazione del 
sogno — there was a gentleman who had a magnificent sword, 
the sheath and hilt of solid gold, richly set with diamonds, 
and with this he frequently beat Gualtiero, to make the others 
laugh. 

"Then Gualtiero, who remembered all the time what his 
old friend had told him, watching his opportunity, caught hold 
of the sword and said, * Vieni! ' 

" Then in an instant all the dream vanished, and Gualtiero 
lay still sleeping in his bed. But in the morning when he 
awoke the sword lay by him ; and the jewellers of Florence 
valued the gold and gems at ten thousand crowns, but said, 
every one, that the work on it was beyond all price, and that 
it was a marvellous thing, of quaint and rare antiquity. 

"Now the next night Gualtiero, in a dream, found himself 
in an immense plain covered with grass; and there came 
riding at him a fierce and armed man whom he could not 
resist. And the cavalier put a cord about his neck, and 
then galloped away, dragging Gualtiero after him, as if he 
had been a bit of wood, over grass and dust, stocks and 
stones, and telling him that it was to make him tender. 

"After a long drag the rider came to a city, and said to 
his victim : 

" * Here I shall sell thee to be eaten. 

" ' Un uomo bene arrostito, 
E buon per I'appetito.' 

** ' A man well roasted 
'S a great delight, 
Daintily toasted 
For appetite.' 

"Then Gualtiero, observing that the horse which his 
captor rode was a very magnificent one, approached him 
quietly, and touching the animal, said : ' Vieni I ^ 

"Ajid when he awoke in the morning, he found in his 



THE DREAMS OF GUALTIERO 217 

courtyard the most beautiful horse in all Italy, and such a 
wonder was it that for years men came to see it as they did 
to see the lions near the palace, or any other marvellous thing. 

"And on the third night Gualtiero found himself, in a 
dream, in what seemed to be a treasury, or zecca, or mint ; 
and he was being tormented by goblins, who pelted him 
terribly with handfuls of gold and silver coins, crying to him : 

" ' So you want to be rich, do you ? Well, then, take ^Mf 
— -prendil ' 

" At last they rolled him on the floor, and smothered him 
in money, piling it over him. But just in the nightmare 
agony, he touched it and said : ' Vienil^ 

"And, as before, all vanished in a wink. But when he 
awoke he found, piled in his hall, such an immense treasure 
of gold coin that he knew at a glance he was the richest man 
in Italy. 

" But on that day there stole into the room a little, very 
mysterious-looking old man, who said to him : 

" ' Signore Gualtiero, I am sent by the King of the Land of 
Dreams, to try to come to some agreement with you. 

" * For you have carried away all his gold — yea, all the coin 
in his treasury, and he is in fear lest you rob him of other 
things.' ' 

" * Well,' replied Gualtiero, * why do the Incubi, his subjects, 
abuse me so, and treat me like a dog ? Does your king think 
that I will not be even with him if I can ? For years he has 
made me afraid to go to sleep — now let him tremble when I 
seek my rest. They who dance must pay the piper — e chi 
taglia tl melone lo paga — and he who cuts the melon must 
settle for it. For verily I tell you that there was never yet a 
dog who bit me but what I had his skin, and thy king has 
worried me long and sore. 

" * 'Tis all very fine, I dare say, for you Incubi 

** ' To worry and nag, and torture and wring, 
Rack and perplex, and nettle and sting, 
Sicken and gall and agonise, 

Draw blood from the heart and tears from the eyes, 
Bother and badger, and bully and bore, 
Wherret ^ and sadden the heart till sore. 
Turn peaceful rest into plague and pest, 
A sea of hot water, a hornet's nest. 



Wherrety an old English word, the original of *' worrit." 



2i8 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Soothing draughts into horrible pills, 

Waters of bitterness, extract of squills, 

With horrors to make a parson swear, 

Sights which no flesh or blood can bear, 

Which would frighten one to a madhouse inured ; — 

All this from your king have I endured, 

And I will make him truly repent, 

Now we have come to a settlement.' 

"'Yea, I will teach you to maltreat innocent people who 
come against their will into your country. After sweet comes 
bitterness, and you shall learn that it is not yet evening in 
Prato. Not at all' ^ 

"Then the old man, terrified at such a storm of words, 
said: 

"*Wilt thou agree to this, that if the Incubi will torment 
thee no more, thou wilt not carry away any more precious 
objects ? ' 

" ' No,' replied Gualtiero ; ' that is not enough. They must 
treat me kindly, and make it pleasant for me whenever I dream. 
On that condition I will promise not to carry away any more 
richezze^ or wealth.' 

" To this the old man agreed, and then departed. 

" After this Gualtiero had only delightful dreams. But one 
night he met with a lady who was enchantingly beautiful, and 
said to her : 

" ' I love thee with all my heart, and it is terrible to think 
that thou in a minute mayest vanish like a vapour. 

" ' Bellezza e come un fiore 
O come il vapore, 
Che nasce e presto muore.' 

*' ' Beauty is like a charming flower 
Which fades away within an hour, 
Or like a shadowy cloud which flies, 
And even as it comes then dies.' 

" Then the lady smiled, and said : * Why dost thou not touch 
me and say "Vieni^'}^ 

"'Because I have promised not to carry away any more 
objects of value.' 

" The lady, still smiling, said : ' I am of no value. I am 

^ A very old Florentine proverb, meaning that punishment is inevitable : 
" Non i ancor sera a Prato. Florentinorum propria, quam Brunettus pro- 
tulit. Non ^ fatto sera a Prato. Nondum evasit, quem sua manet poena. " 
— Angeli Monosinii Floris ItaliccB Lingua, Venice, 1604. 



THE DREAMS OF GUALTIERO 219 

only a cloud and a dream. But thou mayest make the dream 
reality, and cause it to come to pass. That will not break the 
agreement.' 

"Then Gualtiero touched her and said, 'Come,' when all 
vanished as usual. But on awaking he found the fair lady 
accanto a lui — by his side; and he married her, and they 
lived happily together. 

" One day he said to her : 

" ' How dost thou like this life of real things ? ' 

" ' Caro mio — it is a little more real than the Land of 
Dreams, but it only lasts a little longer. You mortals do not 
know it, but you are all phantoms like us, tutti faniasmi. And 
then after this life which we lead here will come another, more 
solid and true, and so on for ever. As we climb the mountain 
we rise step by step to light : 

" ' This life is all a fleeting show, 
The dim reflection of a star ; 
The hardest thing in it's to know 
What 'tis we really are.'" 



IL MOSCONE; OR, THE BLUE-BOTTLE FLY 
AND THE MOSQUITOES 



"Now, when Bishop Otto of Bamberg, in the year 1128, came to Gutz- 
kow, and destroyed the heathen temple and burned the idols, lo I there 
flew out of them immense swarms oi flies, which would not depart till he 
had conjured them as witches and evil spirits." — Temme: Volksagen von 
Pommern. 

Flies are a great plague in Florence, but the wizards 
who peep and mutter have discovered some good in them. 
I do not say that they, like Heine's prisoner, regard them 
as volatile or game, but they discover in them spirits who 
may be conjured to bring good news, as appears by the 
following, which I am assured is, in Voodoo phrase, ^^a 
mighty strong conjuration " : 

II Moscone. 

" When you see a large fly, or blue-bottle, in a house, it is 
surely a sign of good or bad news, but that there will be news 
of some kind is certain. 

"And to learn if the news be true, when you see the fly, 
repeat this incantation : 

** 'Moscone, Moscone, Moscone ! 
Che tu sia il ben venuto, 
E che tu sia lo spirito di buono 
Augurio per chasa mia ! ' " 

" * Fly, be thou ever welcome. 

Mayst thou be the spirit of good fortune 
Unto this my home ! 

Fly, my beautiful Fly 1 
Buzz freely round my room, 
And rest where'er thou wilt. 



IL MO SCONE 221 

But give me at this instant 
The answer if the tidings 
I hear be good or bad. 

Thou, O curious spirit 

In form of a moscone, 

Hast come on wings of wind, 

So many leagues far distant, 
As it were in a minute, 
Directed by thy king, 

Who is the Fly-king, truly, 
Who hath two guiding spirits — 
One who is of good fairies, 

And one of evil witches. 
If thou art of the former, 
I pray thee bring good tidings. 

But if they should be different, 
And thou'rt a sprite of evil, 
I beg thee leave me quickly, 

And hasten to the Fly-king, 
And beg for me his favour, 
To change to good from evil. 

And tell n)e in departing 

If thou wilt bring good tidings ; 

But as thy buzzing language, 

Passes my comprehension, 
Then ope thy wings unto me, 
The wings of gold and silver. 

Then I will hope good tidings, 
And know that thou, moscone^ 
Art well inclined towards me. 

But if the news be evil, 

Spread forth thy black wings to me, 

For black denotes bad fortune. 

And if thou canst not mend it, 
Oh then, thou curst mosconcy 
Fly from my house this instant ; 

And take thy black news with thee, 

And evil be thy fortune, 

And mine be all the blessing ! ' 

" And then open the window, and be the wings of the fly 
gold and silver or black, let him depart on his way." 



222 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

The blue-bottle fly is here the same as the bee. The 
two were often classed together in ancient times. Thus 
in Isaiah vii. i8 we read: ^^And it shall come to pass 
that the Lord shall hiss for the fly that is in the utter- 
most parts of the rivers of Egypt, and for the bee that is 
in the land of Assyria." Now we know that the bee was 
specially a messenger and news-bringer. It was a bee 
which carried messages from Rhoecus to the Dryad. 
Traces of this are found in nursery rhymes : 

" Bless you, bless you, burnie-bee ! 
Say when will my wedding be ? 
If 'twill be to-morrow day, 
Take to your wings and fly away. " 

This is just the same thing as when the Italian asks 
the big fly, if a certain thing is to be, to show it by 
departing. 

The buzzing of flies and bees has always seemed to 
resemble human speech, which would fully account for 
their being regarded as carrying messages. 

Nearly allied to the Moscone are the Mosquilliy which 
may be translated either as troublesome and vexatious 
flies — mosculaje — or large, not small mosquitoes. What- 
ever their exact dimension and quality may be to the 
natural historian, this is the legend which I learned of 
them: 

MOSQUILLI. 

" The Mosguilli (or Mosquilli) were once witches who had 
such power that they turned the son of a king into a great 
fly (^Moscone) \ and he was loved by a maid who was herself a 
terrible witch, or rather an enchantress {p sia una magha). 
And she, having learned this thing, was in a great rage, and 
made a hard and bitter spell, for she took the powder of a 
horse ^ and pepper, and strewed . it in the place where the 

^ What is curried from a horse in cleaning him, which, like pepper and 
thorns, is considered very efficacious to work mischief, if used with incan- 
tations. This " curry-powder " is carefully dried and pulverised. 



IL MOSCONE 223 

witches would pass, and struck the powder with her wand, 
and said : 

" ' Chiamo alia mia presenza, 
Tutte le strege vile 
Chi hanno confinato, 
II mio amante, Moscone, 
Che sul instante possino 
Fa tornar' il mio amante 
Come era daprima, 
E voi altre potrete 
Suir instante, mosquilli, 
Mosquilli, diventare 
E pace non avrete, 
Sempre per I'aria volerete, 
E con vostro ronzare 
Ci sara chi credera 
Di sentervi fistiare 
Col vostro ronzare, 
Ci sara chi credera 
Di sentervi cantare, 
Ma non cantarete, 
E non fistierete, 
La forza non avrete 
Ne di fistiare, 
Ne piu di cantare ; 
Tutte le vostre forze 
Saranno d'i^precare, 
A chi Mosquilli 
Vi ha confinati, 
Ma le vostre imprecazioni 
A me non arriverano, 
Ne a me come neppure, 
Neppur al mio amante ; 
La vostra forza tutta 
Negli spille I'avete, 
Ma a me male 
Mai non farete, 
Alia mia porta 
Entrare non potrete, 
Che ci sta un sacchetto 
Che non vi fara passare, 
Dentro ci e ruta e sale, 
Che i vostri spilli 
Voi stessi vi faro bucare, 
Anche il comigno 
Che mandera indietro 
Lo spirito maligno 
Incensa che vi terra in dietro, 
E non potrete entrar dentro 
Se poi dalla finestra 
Vi volete . . . entrare, 
Volete provar passare, 



224 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Vi trovarete una bella cesta, 

Di scarlatto rosso ricoperta, 

Dove dentro ci sara 

Un vaso di ruta, 

Un ferro di cavallo, 

E di morto vi trovarete 

Un teschio pieno di pepe, 

E sale e di pecore, 

E di agnelli vi trovarata 

I peli che tutti questo 
Sara immischiati 

Di spilli bianchi e neri, 
E nastri rossi e neri 
Tutti incrociati. 
Sara una jettatura 
Tanto forte che vi fara 
Male stare, e in casa mia 
Non potrete entrare quando 
In qualche casa entrarete. 
Per fare del male a qualchuno 
A qualchun' dovranno dire. ' 

" * O mosquillo se tu siei, 

Un mosquillo buono dal cielo, 

Calato, vola per I'aria in pace, 

Che da nessuno tu sia toccato, 

Se siei un mosquillo Strega, 

O stregone, in nome della maga 

Che ti ha confinato, 

Le corne e la castagna, 

lo ti faro e il malocchio 

Col' aglio mi levera, 

A cio che dentro al catino 

O recipiente che cava 

II malocchio, tu possa cascare, 
E una gamba ti possa levare, 
E cosi quando vi avranno 
Levata la gamba fuggirete, 
Zoppicando, e quando sarete 

A casa, le ore che avete da stare 

Da me sarete zoppo, al zoppicarsi 

Vi cognoscerrano stregone e vi scanserrano. 



Incantation of the Mosquitoes. 

'* Here I summon to my presence 
All the vs^itches who have conjured 
Him I love into a blue fly, 
That they may this very instant 
Give him back his natural figure. 
Ye yourselves I also conjure 
By my power into mosquitoes. 



IL MOSCONE 225 

Now mosquitoes ye become, 

In the air to ever hum, 

Singing, stinging, as ye go ; 

Peace ye never more shall know. 

Some to piping will compare 

Your tingling buzzing in the air ; 

Some will say it is your singing 

When they hear your voices ringing ; 

Yet in this they will be wrong, 

'Tis neither piping nor a song, 

For no power will ye have 

To pipe an air or sing a stave. 

The only power you'll have will be 

To curse the one who conjured ye. 

But all your cursing, as ye swarm. 

Will never do me any harm ; 

For all of it, and ten times over, 

Will never hurt me nor my lover, 

Nor your maledictions come 

Unto me nor in my home. 

All your strength is in your stings, ^ 

All your power in your wings, 

And me your harm 

Does not alarm. 

Since through my door 

Ye'll come no more. 

For I've here a little sack 

Which will make you all turn back. 

In it there is sdlt and rue, 

Which hath the power ever true, 

Be ye imps or be ye elves, 

To turn your stings against yourselves. 

In it there is also cummin. 

Which will quickly stop your hummin' ; 

And with it holy incense, which 

Hath power to make the devil itch. 

If through the window you would fly, 

You'll find there is a chest thereby, 

A box of brilliant scarlet hue. 

In which there lies a vase of rue. 

And of a horse the iron shoe, 

A human skull with pepper full, 

Salt, and of lambs and sheep the wool. 

And pins both black and white you'll spy 

In crosses placed to blast your eye. 

Making z.jettatura which 

Might scare the devil or a witch ; 



1 Spille, also pins, a jeer at witches as if their sorceries to do harm did 
not go beyond using black and white pins in conjuring, or the mere 
rudiments. 

II P 



226 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

A glorious and tremendous charm, 

Enough to keep us all from harm. 

And if by any chance ye come 

To work us evil in our home ; 

Thus shall the sufferer boldly speak, 

And with this charm your sorcery break. 

' O mosquitoes, if ye be 

Good, and fallen from heaven on me, 

Oh then in peace take to your wings, 

And don't torment us with your stings ; 

But if ye wizards be, or witches, 

I conjure you by that name which is 

A spell to blast you black and blue. 

The name of Her who conjured you 

Into those forms ! Now, lo ! divine, 

I make the horn and chestnut sign,^ 

And then with garlic ever by 

I blast with ease your evil eye. 

At once into this vase you'll fall, 

And that will be the worst of all. 

For then I'll pluck a leg from thee — 

Where then i' the morning wilt thou be ? 

Limping about at home and lame. 

Known as a witch and spurned to shame ! ' " 

This is extremely curious, as containing more of the 
old Roman-Etruscan charms against sorcery than any 
other out of the hundreds of similar incantations which 
I have collected. There is also in it a certain vivacity, 
almost like humour, which I trust is not entirely lost in 
the translation. 

^ The Jettatura with fingers, and that of the thumb between the index 
and middle finger, called divine by the Romans, who used it also against 
witches. 



LA VIA DEL GOMITOLO DEL ORO, AND HOW 
IT GOT ITS NAME 



' So, like a fool, she frittered life away. 
Still singing : ' So it is, for such am I ; 
Therefore let all things drift — 
Some one will pay.' 

To which a spirit answered her, with Job : 

' Quasi de stnltis mulieribus 

Locuta es.^ — ' Thou talkest like a fool ! ' 

To which she answered, with a silly laugh : 

' He is a fool, therefore, who talks to me.' " — C. G. L. 



The translation of the following legend is word for word 
as I received it, but the conclusion as regards poetic 
form is my own. i 

" In the Via del Gomitolo del Oro, or Street of the Golden 
Skein, was an old house in which there dwelt an old man who 
had a beautiful young wife, who had married him for love — 
truly not of himself, but of his vast fortune. This gave much 
cause for gossip to the neighbours. And she had a strange 
fancy for always braiding and playing with skeins of gold, 
tossing them about in caprice. 

" And when any one said, ' Thou wilt be unhappy some day 
from this marriage,' she replied, ' When I was a child I always 
played with skeins of cotton ; now I play with skeins of gold. 
An old man is good to begin with ; he may lead the way to a 
young one. I shall have a change. The same soup every day 
at dinner, the same husband all the time, is tiresome. Begin 
by marrying a poor young man — you will be poor, and not go 
to a ball nor live in great society. For a few caresses and 
smiles the old husband gives me diamonds, which I keep, and 
then there are dresses meanwhile.' 

" ' Beware,' said her friends. ''Chi piu abbraccia meno stringe 
— Who grasps at too much gets least.' 

227 



228 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" ' Ch' St con fen fa, gode — Who is contented is happy,' she 
replied. 

" She began by love-affairs with lords ; she wearied of them, 
and descended to vulgar intrigues with ruffians, and at last fell 
into the power of a rascal who robbed her of all her jewels ; 
and when he could get no more, the villain went to her 
husband, and telling him all the story, said : 

" ' Now give me a thousand crowns, or I will publish your 
disgrace everywhere.' 

" The husband, in a rage, dismissed him, and then had his 
wife confined as a prisoner in an old house in the Gomitolo 
del Oro. And in scorn he gave her skeins of gold thread, 
saying : ' Thou didst once play with cotton, and then didst 
marry me to play with gold like a fool, so play with it.' 

"So she sat there playing with the gold thread all day long, 
singing : 

'"I was a foolish wife, 

And I married a husband old ; 
I idled away my life, 
To play with skeins of gold. 
I thought it was jolly, 
'Twas all but folly, 
Playing with skeins of gold. 

I braid them and I wind them 
In many a shining fold, 
All in my hair I've twined them, 
The beautiful skeins of gold — 

All idle sport 

Of every sort, 
Playing with skeins of gold.' 

" So she sat for years playing with the skeins, and so she 
died. And from that time the street was called La Via del 
Gomitolo del OroP 

This story has but a single feature, and in that it is 
almost identical with a German tale which powerfully 
appealed to the poetic imagination of Heine — that of the 
princess who passed her whole life and wasted her 
fortune in crushing, rustling, and cutting to pieces expen- 
sive silks, satins, or cloth of gold. The lesson that all 
selfish, wasted lives amount to mere playing with skeins 
— be they of gold or cotton — though the tale is very 
simply told, is still vigorously set forth. Among the 



LA VIA DEL GOMITOLO DEL ORO 229 

great number of these legends which I have collected, 
none has struck me so much by its poetry of conception 
as this of the Gomitolo del Oro. 

To which the observant Flaxius appends : "There are in the 
world, of women not a few, and many men, I ween, well 
thereunto, whose whole life and highest aim is really not to 
win gold for real pleasure, or even for avarice or aught solid, 
but merely to live in its glitter and sheen — to froler and 
froisser^ rumple and rustle drap (Tor and damask drapery, 
jingle jewels, in a kind of fade ostentation, as doth a pro- 
fessional beauty or an actress famous for being famous, 
nothing more, and being diamonded or demi-monded for 
famousness; or a man or woman who is among the Grand 
Lamas of Fashion, which meaneth next to God for most of us 
— and who, when known, is simply a twister of gold skeins, 
a fretter and tearer of embroidery, a simpleton into an idol 
made." 



LEGEND OF LA PIAZZA DEI TRE RE, OR HOW 
THE THREE KINGS OF THE EAST AP- 
PEARED TO A YOUNG MAN IN FLORENCE 

"An Magi qui ex Oriente venerunt, et recens natum Christum Bethle- 
hetni adorarunt, Magi fuerunt, et Fascinatorum sedem obtinuerunt? hie 
quaeritur." — Fromman, Tractatus de Fascinatione, Nuremberg, 1674. 

Saving correction, the following tale is given word for 
word from the original. 

" Where there is now the Piazza dei Tre Re, stood in old times 
a very ancient palace in which dwelt a young man who was 
learned, good, and wise, and yet withal extremely poor, since 
all his means were drawn from renting out a few rooms in the 
palace, and from giving lessons; yet for all this he was so 
charitable that he thought far more of the poor than he did 
of himself Nay, if he had but a lira, he spent only a third of 
it on himself, nor could he really sleep in comfort till he had 
invited some poor soul to lodge over-night in his palace, 
where he gave the guest what he could for food. 

"And he would long since have sold the palace, were it 
only to have the means to do more good, had not his parents, 
who had brought him up in the ways of benevolence and 
humiUty, said to him when dying, "Never part with thy 
home, come what may; for money is soon spent, but while 
thou hast the dwelling, thou hast in it a shelter for the poor. 

"He was so devoted to such good work, that if no one 
came to beg for aid, he always placed himself at a window 
looking on the street, and waited till midnight to see if 
any passed by whom he could assist. And so it happened 
that one evening while thus watching there came three very 
old, infirm, apparently poor men, who paused under the 
window till one said : 

"'Where indeed can we find lodging to-night, since it is 
so late and we know nobody in all the city, and we are too 
weary to go much farther } ' 



LEGEND OF LA PIAZZA DEI TRE RE 231 

" Thereupon the young man, full of joy, cried, ' Come in ; 
here you are welcome, for I was waiting for such guests.' So 
when they entered, he treated them as kindly as he could, 
giving them, it is true, only bread, cheese, and wine for 
supper, but explaining to them why he lived so poorly, so 
that he might have the means to share his humble meals with 
the poor. Then they asked him many questions as to his life 
and means, and soon found, as wise men would, that he was 
entirely given to the one idea of doing good. 

" In the morning before they departed, one spoke to the 
young man, and said : 

" ' Not for a night's lodging nor for charity did we come 
here, O youth ! But having heard, even from the very angels, 
thy praises, and how thou didst pass all thy life in doing good 
as silently and modestly as it could be done by man without 
vanity, we came to see into this thing ourselves, and find 
indeed that it is all true. Know that we are the three kings 
Caspar, Baltasar, and Melchior, the givers of gifts, and we 
will each bestow one on thee.' 

" Then Caspar (Gasparro) gave him a great lump of frank- 
incense, and Baltasar a pound of myrrh, and Melchior an old 
gold crown-piece of money. 

" ' You may take every day from this incense one half and 
sell it, but the next morning there will be a pound of it as 
before. And you may take half the myrrh, yet always have 
the same quantity. In like manner, you will find by the gold 
piece another like it, one every day. Take these with our 
blessing, and may you be as happy in your life as you have 
striven to make others happy ! ' 

"Saying this, they disappeared, leaving their gifts, which 
proved to be indeed productive and profitable, so much so, 
that, although the young man, to the end of a very long life, 
continued to give away two-thirds of his income in charity, he 
still died as rich as he was beloved. And thus it came that 
the Place of the Three Kings got its name." 

This is the old story of the goddesses who appear to 
Paris, the three /ate, or Norse or Weird Sisters, who 
come to Norse and Mediaeval heroes, or the three Wants 
who visit Guicciardini, always as rewarders with appro- 
priate gifts. It takes many forms, but it is always the 
same old tradition. 



232 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

But what is most interesting in the tale is that in it 
the three Magi appear as giving just such mysterious 
gifts as are pecuHar to magicians. It is to be observed 
that in Italian witchcraft there is only a very limited 
number of saints who are recognised as sorcerers, ^.^., 
Antony and Simeone, and at the head of these are the three 
Magi, even the Church having been obhged to com- 
promise with popular superstition regarding them, by 
striking the so-called witch-medal, which is admitted by 
believers in sorcery to be an effective substitute for the 
old witch-medals, or certain Roman coins used as amulets. 
Fromman, in his work on Fascination, raises the question 
whether the Magi were enchanters — -fascinatores — or not, 
and cites a great number of ancient and learned authorities 
for or against the opinion, the whole amounting to that 
of Buntingus, who, in his Itinerarium Sacr. Scriptur. 
Part iii. page 283, decides that ^'they were men deeply 
learned, not only in the book of Nature, but also in the 
Christian reHgion," which, considering that the Christian 
religion did not exist when they appeared, shows that 
they must have been conjurers indeed. 

All the associations of the Magi smack of sorcery. 
Thus Riolanus (apud D. Bartholimim, Cent. 2, Hist. 
Anat. 78) gives the following as a spell against epilepsy, 
declaring that it will cause the patient to at once arise, if 
it be thrice softly murmured in his ear : 

" Ssepe se expertum affirmat Epilepticos resurgere, si ter in 
aurem vulgati versiculi insusurrentur : 

*' 'Caspar fert myrrham, thus Melchior Balthasar aurum, 
Hse tria qui secum portabit nomina Regum, 
Solvitur a morbo Christe pietate caduco.' 

" In France, in the Department d'llle-et-Vilaine," says 
Paul Vierzon {Les Presages de Bonheur, &c.)y "when a 
young girl would see in a dream her future spouse, she 



LEGEND OF LA PIAZZA DEI TRE RE 233 

must put, on going to bed on Christmas Eve, three leaves 
of laurel under her pillow, and say before she sleeps : 

" ' Gaspard, 

Balthazar, 

Melchior, 
Dites-moi en dormant, 
Qui j'aurai de mon vivant ! ' " 



PICO DI MIRANDOLA 



*' Readeth the Cabala, 
Like wise Mirandola." 

— Crichton^ by G. P. R. James. 

"An old— 
A legend-leaved book, mysterious to behold." 

—Keats. 



Pico DI Mirandola lies buried in Santa Croce. A 
modern writer of celebrity, in eulogising the great 
Humboldt, based his admiration solely on the fact that 
the Baron had travelled so extensively, and thereby got 
into so much Good Society — the epitaph upon great 
Pico's tomb is chiefly based on his conjectured explora- 
tions in India ! He was really one of the great scholars 
of the Renaissance — one, indeed, not only of very many, 
but of very broad sides, he being "grand in Greek and 
unequalled among Christians as a Hebraist." There is, 
indeed, a reference to the latter in the text. I would 
here say that, for reasons which I will give anon, I have 
omitted much of the original and supplied certain details, 
or rather indulged in certain capriccii^ which the reader 
will readily detect, and, I trust, pardon. 

Pico di Mirandola. 

"There was anciently in Florence a very old and wealthy 
family named di Mirandola, and the couple who represented 
it had a son named Pico. Now, this boy by nature wanted 
neither wit nor sense, and his father observing it, wished to 
have his son well trained in learning, so that he might make a 
figure at court and in the world. For in those days learning 



PICO DI MIRANDOLA 235 

was made extremely fashionable by the reigning family, and 
great scholars were sure to come to something, if they had 
but sense. 

" Unfortunately, the good man, as regards letters, was like 
the lawyer whom the people called Necessity, 'because he 
knew no law.' ^ And, having grown up between the country 
and the camp, he had no idea that there was any kind of 
learning save the clerical, so put poor Pico under the training 
of an old-fashioned monk, who regarded everything as tending 
to sure damnation which was not to be found in Monk-Latin 
or the Church Fathers. And he indeed crammed the boy for 
three or four years with points of doctrine, papal edicts, 
decretals, lives of saints, dogmatisms and catechisms, school- 
mendacities, and similar trash, till his brain buzzed as with 
a thousand bees, and yet he was at the end of it all, as regards 
any true learning, doctor in utroque nihil. Yet, being clever 
and gifted, he mastered all this dreary stuff with dire endurance, 
hoping to see some good come of it all, while marvelling that 
God had ever made geese. 

"Now old Mes^er di Mirandola having heard that monk 
praise the learning of his pupil, and being informed that in 
the family of a noble friend of his in Florence there were 
weekly meetings where scholars and clever people of all kinds 
were welcomed, resolved that his son should go there, never 
doubting but that Pico would take the shine out of the most 
brilliant of them. And he was specially urged not to be 
backward, because it had been the great end and aim of all 
his theologic learning : 

" Firstly^ To confute somebody, that is, to disprove, defeat, 
explode, invalidate, knock down, disparage, and shut up any 
person who discusses with you any question or point in cul- 
ture and literature. 

^^ Secondly^ To believe that true learning shows itself by 
getting above the comprehension of your adversary — which 
means anybody who talks to you — and thereby convincing 
him that you know more than he does. 

" Thirdly^ To make broad and great assertions as to the 
general ignorance and stupidity of your adversary, and prove 
it by picking out and exaggerating trifling errors. 

" Now it was with this precious provision of priggery and 
pedantry that poor Pico was sent to distinguish himself in 

^ An old Italian saying. Proverbi Italiani, 16 18. 



236 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

one of the most brilliant saloons in Florence, at a time when 
Culture — 

" ' with its rhetorike sweet 

Enlumined all Italic,' 

and Papism was well nigh extinguished in Paganism, But 
I will not dwell on the entire and crushing defeat, the dire 
degringolade^ the fiasco^ the affaire flambee which Pico made 
of it, when he attempted to take part in a literary discussion 
in which his first assertion was to the effect that Greek was 
all sorry trash which only a fool would learn, the classic 
mythology pure rot, and the volgare or Italian language 
unfit for literature. 

" Now his chief opponent was a young lady of overwhelming 
beauty, with whom he fell in love at first sight. But having 
been carefully trained to believe that all women were only 
bags of ignorance, vice, deceit, and folly, who adored those 
who treated them most rudely, he attacked her with specially 
coarse severity. Whereupon he was disarmed with wonderful 
ease and grace by a poHshed weapon, and made to feel to 
his very heart of hearts what a poor, contemptible, utterly 
ignorant wretch he was, wallowing in mud in a monkish mid- 
night. And after having been most courteously in words, but 
very severely in argument, set right, he was let alone, and, utterly 
crushed by shame, left the palazzo without a word to any one. 

" Now there had been present at this discussion a very wise 
man of marvellous learning, a mago withal, and much more 
than well read in books, for he could peruse the human heart 
from the face ; and his attention being drawn to Pico, he ob- 
served that there was in him no want of genius, but that he 
had merely been badly educated, and greatly pitying the boy, 
resolved to take him in hand. And so he followed him, and 
found him seated in blank despair in the wood where is now 
the Cascine. 

"The young are soon touched by tenderness into confi- 
dence, and Pico accordingly poured forth his sorrow, explain- 
ing how he, after having been flattered and cockered-up into 
the belief that he was a miracle, had found that he was an ass ; 
cursing withal his teacher, and the day he was born, with the 
decretals, cat- and dog-matism, and all pertaining to them. 

" Then the elderly gentleman said to him : ' I will speak to 
thy father, and explain to him that thy tutor does thee more 
harm than good, and he shall be dismissed. But do thou take 



PICO DI MIRANDOLA 237 

this book from me and study it carefully. Let no one know 
that thou hast it — speak not a word thereof, or it will vanish.' 

" Saying this, he produced a small, very ancient, and mar- 
vellously bound book, which, however, expanded as it came 
to light, and gave it to Pico. And with this the old man 
disappeared with a pleasant smile as if auguring good fortune, 
leaving the youth amazed at such an adventure. 

" But he was much more astonished when, opening the 
book at haphazard, he read these words in a beautifully 
distinct italic: 

" ' J^uo di Mirandola, be not cast down, nor ashamed that 
thou hast had such a rebuffs for the fault is not thine, but thy 
teacher's. Now tell me, as to a friend, what thou desirest!^ 

•' Then Pico replied, ' I would fain learn Greek, and what- 
ever also is becoming a gentleman and scholar, and be as 
others are in this our age, and, if it be possible, to become 
a leader among the learned.' 

" Then he opened the book and read : 

" ' All this 7?iay come to pass, dear Pico, if thou wilt follow 
my advice, and study me with a good will, nor is there aught 
on earth in which I will not advise thee.^ 

"And it came to pass as the book promised. For it 
taught him Greek by a n^w and improved method, and 
Hebrew in quarter time, and answered every question about 
everything, nor was it above telling him many tales and rare 
jests, or teaching him games and the art of conversation. And 
when he wished to read any book which had ever existed since 
time begun, he had only to wish for it, and lo ! it was all in 
the precious volume. It was an universal library, an infinite 
cyclopaedia, a daily newspaper, a mentor, guide, philosopher 
and friend ; it told him what to say to ladies to please them, 
and gave him straight tips for the races, and numbers for the 
lottery. It was a Bradshaw and complete guide-book for every 
place when he travelled, and also a Cook's Tourist and a 
Cook-book when wanted. 

"Now Pico di Mirandola had never forgotten the young 
lady scholar before whom he had suffered such ignominious 
defeat, and the thought of recovering grace in her eyes made 
him study all the harder. Therefore, after a time, when he had 
made progress in letters and arts, the benevolent book, which 
had coached him up for all possible casualties of conversa- 
tion, thought he might again visit the palazzo where he had 
appeared as the very Prince of Duffers. 



238 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" * Now/ said the book, ' I will shrink up into a very small 
volume which you will carry in the palm of your hand. You 
need not open me, all will appear on the cover. And if you 
get stuck {tralasciato\ just take a peep at me.' 

" It was with very different feelings and another mien that 
Pico di Mirandola sought the palace for a second time. For 
he remained modestly listening and taking note of all that was 
said, and while admiring the grace and modesty with which 
opinions were advanced in courteous terms, he was also 
encouraged at finding that he himself was really not so much 
inferior to many whose force, as he perceived, lay more in 
manner than in learning. Till at last, when the conversation 
ran on language, the young lady remarked : 

" ' It is curious indeed that in the ancient tongues so many 
words when reversed have an opposite meaning. I would ask 
your opinion, Messer di Mirandola, but I believe that you 
scorn all tongues save Monk-Latin.' 

" ' It is true,' replied Pico without looking at his book, * that 
I once hated Greek. But as a Greek writer has said, " We do 
not learn to respect a brave enemy till w^e have fought him," 
and I have struggled with Greek, I trust not in vain. And as 
for the reversed meanings of words, let us take Rome — Ro7na. 
We go into the idea which it expresses with warlike feeling, 
but turning it backward we find amor oy love.' 

"There was a buzz of approval at this conceit, and the 
young lady smilingly said : 

" ' Perhaps it is only a Platonic love which Rome inspires. 
But what do you think of Platonic love ? ' 

" ' Truly that, like many things which begin with play, it is 
apt to end in earnest. And that, like all tonics, it generally 
inspires a keen appetite — in this case for what is most un- 
Platonic, or the reverse — ^just like Rome.' 

" Then, being encouraged, he proceeded to illustrate reversed 
meanings as shown in the Cabala, it being the opinion of some 
that the Hebrew tongue was formed on this principle, and that 
in sorcery, verses which read the same backwards and forwards 
were the most powerful spells, of which indeed there is one to 
be seen on the pavement in the Baptistery in Florence. 

" Then a young man who was anxious to mortify the youth 
asked him why it was that he had not condescended at his 
first visit to favour the company with some of the fruits and 
flowers of learning of which he was now so liberal. And Pico 
with a smile replied — scherzando : 



PICO DI MIRANDOLA 239 

' ' • When Junius Brutus played the idiot 
Before the men of Rome, it was to find 
The fitting time and season when to speak.' 

" And the end of it all was, that in two days all Florence 
spoke of Pico as of one risen from the dead or transfigured, 
some even saying that he could predict your future husband 
and recover stolen goods. But it is certain that the young 
lady fell in love with him, and that he married her, and that 
the happy pair talked Greek together to the end of their days. 

" As for the book, it is said that it was buried with him in 
his tomb in Santa Croce." 

The text of this story as I received it consisted of 
sixteen pages, of v^hich fourteen were taken up with a 
very stupid, confused account of the love-making between 
Pico and the lady, only two containing a brief account of 
the book and the part which it played. But having a 
feeling that in the true original, whatever it was, the 
proportions were reversed, I ventured to restore them. 
The pudding had been made originally according to a 
good recipe, but the cook had blundered in the making 
and proportions '^most dumbnably." 

Now, whether I have made a moderately interesting 
tale of it, setting forth old Florentine life and ways, the 
reader or reviewer may decide, but well I trow none of ye 
wad ha' gin a bodle for the story as I have it in manu- 
script, which was of itself most evidently a vulgar para- 
phrase, by some reader of penny-sentimentals, of a simple 
and strange old tale now lost, and thus told to Maddalena, 
who wrote it down literally as she learned it. So ye 
may call this all an original tale by me if ye will, but 
had I done so, somebody might, could, would, or should, 
accuse me of plagiarism. 

"And now," exclaimed the spiteful Didius of Yorick, 
" I have got him fast hung up upon one of the two horns 
of my dilemma — let him get off as he can." 

And after all I am only a little Perraultier than Perrault, 
Langer than Lang, or Grimmer than Grimm ! 



THE RING; OR, DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND 



" What man so wise, what earthly witt so ware, 
As to discry the crafty cunning traine, 
By which Deceit doth maske in visour faire, 
And cast her colours dyed deep in graine, 
To seeme like Truth whose shape she well can faine ? " 

— Spenser's Fairie Queene. 

I TELL the following tale with needful correction but no 
alteration, just as I received it. 

" There was, long ago, in Florence a Grand Duke who was 
as shrewd as a fox, and scaltro come Vorco — crafty as a devil. 

" He had a courtier friend or intimate, as such court friends 
go, whom he loved well enough for company, but not enough 
to trust him out of sight ; and this gentleman believed himself 
to be clever enough to cheat the Duke, and only waited for 
an opportunity. 

"One day this good signore, whose name was Flaminio, 
showed the Duke a ring in which was set what appeared to 
be a splendid diamond. 

" *^ bella cosa — 'tis a fine thing,' said Flaminio, 'and I got 
it at a great bargain for six hundred crowns.' 

"The Duke examined it closely, and noted that the stone 
was false, and worth about five crowns. But he kept his 
thoughts close, though he opened his mouth and said : 

" ' Will you sell it to me for eight hundred crowns ? ' 

'"I had rather not,' replied Flaminio. 

" ' Say a thousand, then. I can go no higher.' 

" Then Flaminio, as it seemed rather unwillingly, and as a 
great favour, sold it to the Duke, saying : 

" ' But I sell it without recourse. I do not guarantee it, for I 
may have been deceived, as all men may be in gems.* 

" ' Never mind,' replied the Duke ; * Chi compra, guardi. 
I will take the risk.' 



THE RING; OR, DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND 241 

" When Flaminio had taken the thousand crowns and de- 
parted, the Duke sent for a jeweller, and said : 

" ' Look at this stone and tell me how much it is worth.' 

" ' Signore, about five crowns.' 

" ' As I thought,' replied the Duke. ' Now take it out and 
set in its place a real diamond exactly like it.' 

" ' That will cost two thousand crowns,' answered the 
jeweller. 

" * Good. I will pay it. But keep the affair a secret.' 

"The change of stones was promptly effected. That 
evening Flaminio and many other courtiers were invited to 
supper by the Duke, and Flaminio had told them all, as a 
good joke, the whole story. 

" Therefore they soon began to rally the Duke with much 
laughter, declaring that his diamond was glass. But the Duke 
replied : 

" * Can Signort, I think that you are in error. I know 
something about diamonds, and I will bet a thousand scudi 
all round that this stone is real. Only remember that it is at 
all risks, and without recourse, for it was under such condition 
that I bought it.' 

" Whereupon twelve of those who were present betted each 
a thousand crowns that the st;one was not a diamond. 

" Then the Duke sent for the Signore Benevenuto Sellini, 
and asked him : 

" ' How much is this stone worth ? ' 

" The Signore Benevenuto examined it, and said : 

" ' At least two thousand crowns ; and I should have tried to 
sell it to your Highness for three thousand.' 

" The twelve gentlemen looked at this like a dozen Roman 
asses. 

" ' Pay up, gentlemen,' exclaimed the Duke ; * pay up your 
honest debts ! It rains manna for me to-day, and I must 
gather it ere morning. Pay up to a penny, as soon as one 
can say Amen-ny ! ' 

" * Chi paga debito fa capitale, 

Chi non paga andra alio spedale.* 

" * He who pays up his debts makes capital ; 
He who doth not goes to the hospital.' 

** ' A fowler came at length and caught the bat ; 
Wise is the mouse, and wiser still the rat, 
But in the end they find a wiser cat.' " 
II 241 o 



VENUS AND THE RING 

*' There was a Spanish Bonifacius 
Who wrote of mortals loving statues ; 
But an Italian changed the plan, 
And made a statue love a man, 
And come between him and his bride 
Till he was nearly petrified 
With fear. But soon a brave magician 
Did rescue him from this position, 
Where he in grief was wallowing, 
As you may read i' the following." 

I ONCE made the acquaintance in Florence of a girl of 
about twenty years of age, named Maria or Marietta Pery. 
She was a dressmaker, and has since become a concert- 
singer. She was an improvisatore, and had the gift to a 
degree which I have never seen in any other of writing 
her productions in the most off-hand manner, with extra- 
ordinary rapidity, and almost without correction or error. 
I do not write slowly myself, but she would complete a 
long poem in far less time than I could copy it. 

Marietta had a memory full of old legends and fairy 
tales, and it was quite a matter of indifference to her 
whether she wrote them out in a poetical or prose form. 
She gave me the one " On the Origin of the Cricket of 
the Cascine " in both. It is worth observing that she did 
not seem to be aware that there was anything at all re- 
markable in her poetic power, and she never made any 
display of it, or spoke of it to any one. 

This abihty to write poetry in measures or metres, 
which seems to us indicative of great culture, is, however, 
common in Italy. It is due to two facts — firstly, that even 
the great majority of the halfpenny broadsides, which are 



VENUS AND THE RING 243 

more diffused here than elsewhere, are in the stately form 
of Ur^e or ottaverimCy or such as were used by Luigi 
Pulci and Ariosto; and, secondly, that till very recently 
it was common for many, even among the poorest people, 
to have by heart an incredible quantity of poetry even by 
great authors. 

Henry Heine and Robert Southey, and I know not 
how many more, have repeated the old story of the 
young man who put a gold ring on the finger of a statue 
of Venus ; how, when he married, Venus came at night 
between him and his bride, protesting that he had wedded 
her with the ring ; and how he finally got rid of her by 
means of a necromantic priest — it was neck or nothing 
romantic in this case, for the clergyman was found 
strangled a few days after. And having spoken of this 
legend to Marietta Pery, she recalled it, as she did, in- 
deed, almost every common legend of which I ever heard, 
being, like all true poets, naturally gifted with a love 
of quaint lore ; and then, < of course, singing, wrote it 
down. And what this Pery at the gate, or when at her 
best pace, sang, was as follows. I give it here, as I have 
done another of her poems, according to the first rough 
draft, without the least correction : — 

Venere e l'Anello. 

" Era una volta un principe Romano, 
Di bella principessa d'amor colto 
E per pegno d'amor Fun I'altro in mano, 
Dovea in dito un anelF tenere avvolto ; 
Era forte, era bello, era guerriero, 
Era gentile ed era pur severo. 

Impegnato in un giorno una partita 

Al giuoco del pallon con degli amici, 

Cosa che a lui tanto era gradito, 

E iniziata sotto augusto auspici, 

Di Roma antica infra le maserie, 

Fu fatto il giuoco con scommesse serie. 



244 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

Con sforso ei giscava inaudito, 
E la man gli gonfiava entro il braciale, 
Togliersi voile allor Tanell' del dito 
E non sapendo in luogo porlo in quale, 
A una Vener di marmor in dito pone, 
L'anello, e al giuoco si ridispone. 

Finito il giuoco, ricerco l'anello, 
In dito piu la Venere non I'avea 
Sorpreso allora da questo trastullo, 
Di cio ragione darsi non sapea. 
Pensando che alia sua fidanzata 
Tenere dovea la cosa ognor celata. 

Torna dalla sua bella e allor la sposa 

Con lei si giace nel letto nuziale 

Perb sembrava cosa dolorosa, 

Nel vedersi fra mezzo come un male, 

La Venere di marmo, con stupore, 

Che a lui diceva : * Tu mi donasti amore ! ' 

Fino dal giorno che l'anello in dito, 
Tu mi mettesti al giuoco del pallone, 
Allora il prence offeso e indispetito, 
Prese per cio, seria risoluzione, 
Andar da un grande mago, ardito e forze 
Che di sua casa aprirsegli le porte. 

Racconto al mago il fatto come stava, 

Esso gli disse non potea far niente, 

II prence allor, piangendo I'implorava 

Che in quest'affar sol' lui era potente. 

Disse il mago, ' potenza e sovrana, 

Ma se contento ti fo, muoio in settimana.' 

Tanto fa il' prence e arriva a persuadere 
II mago che gli fa la grazia chiesto, 
Gli disse : ' A mezzanotte vai a vedere 
Fuori di Roma ove un croccichio appresta, 
Di strade, e li vedrai una processione 
Che ti fark guarir di tua passione. 

' A Venere porgerai sta pergamena, 
E allora avrai la grazia che tu chiedi, 
Di spiriti vedrai la via plena ; 



VENUS AND THE RING 245 

Ed io dovro morire, e tu nol credi. 
Morro perche ti fai un tal favore 
Tu felice godrai il tuo caro amore.' 

II principe ne andb all luogo indicate, 
Trova uno stuolo di spiriti e di demoni 
Incede un carro di colore aurato, 
Tutto colmo di fiori e di pennoni, 
Venere in mezzo assisa a gran fulgore, 
Rassembrante la Dea del divo amore. 

Allora il prence a lei si avvicina, 
Porge la pergamena del gran mago, 
Essa rattrista la belta divina, 
E dice : ' II tuo desir sia reso pago ! ' 
Disse pero : ' II tuo gran negromante 
Non in sette giorni, ma morra all' istante.' 

In si dire, fra mezzo a gran fulgore 
Circondata da si gran pandemonio 
Nelle sfere celesti, il suo dolore, 
Sporto del prence — e del matrimonio 
II prence fu felice — piii che innante — 
Ma il gran mago 'fu ver, mori all' istante. 



Venus and the Ring. 

" There was a prince of old in the Roman land. 
Who to a lovely princess gave his heart ; 
And each had placed upon the other's hand 
A ring from which they vowed to never part ; 
And he in all surpassed all men by far, 
Gentle in peace and terrible in war. 

One day, when sides were formed and bets were laid 

Among his friends to make a game at ball. 

It pleased him much to think it would be played. 

With great authority to watch it all ; 

So 'twas arranged that they the game would hold, 

Beyond the gates, 'mid ruins grey and old. 

Now, as he played with mighty strength, he found 
His hand too closely pressed upon the sling 
Or band wherewith the player's wrist is bound, 



246 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

So from his finger he removed the ring : 
Seeing a marble Venus standing there, 
He put the ring upon her finger fair. 

And when the game was played he hastened quick 
Unto the Venus, but the ring was gone. 
And much he was surprised at such a trick, 
Being assured that he was seen by none ; 
And he was vexed to think, all things above, 
How he could keep it secret from his love. 

And so it came at last that he was wed. 

And then there happened something strange, I ween. 

For as he lay by his fair bride in bed, 

A something cold and evil came between : 

The marble Venus, who in ghostly tone 

Spoke slowly unto him — ' Thou art mine own ! 

Mine hast thou been in truth, and since the day 

When on my finger thou didst put the ring.' 

So he was frozen till the morning ray, 

And then resolved to break this conjuring, 

And going to a famous magian, 

With shuddering voice to him his tale began, 

Relating to him all that went before : 

The sage replied that nothing could be done. 

The Prince long prayed him, and with weeping sore. 

To use his power for once for him alone. 

The magian said : ' If I this thing should try, 

Within a week I certainly shall die.' 

Yet long the Prince did beg the magian's grace, 
Until the latter yielded to his prayer. 
And said : ' This night go to a certain place. 
Away from Rome. Thou'lt find a cross-road there, 
And thou wilt see a strange procession pass. 
Seeming in number like the blades of grass. 

* Then unto Venus, there, this parchment show, 

And unto thee thy ring again she'll give ; 

Spirits will swarm around, above, below. 

And I must die, which thou wilt not believe ; 

Yes, for this favour I must lose my life. 

That thou mayest live in love with thy young wife.' 



VENUS AND THE RING 247 

The Prince then sought the place, which was not far, 

And saw the troop of demons fill the way, 

Until there came a stately golden car. 

All garlanded with flowers and pennons gay, 

Where, in the midst, sat Lady Venus bright. 

The queen resplendent of all love and light. 

To the divinely beautiful he drew. 

And gave the parchment which he erst had won. 

And as she read it, sad the goddess grew. 

And said, ' What you desire shall soon be done ; ' 

But added, ' Thy great magian shall be free 

From life, not in a week, but instantly ! ' 

And in a flash, away from that great light, 

All in that wondrous pandemonium. 

As if from torment dark to heavenly light, 

The Prince was rapt. All joy to him did come. 

And he was ever happy with his bride ; — 

But, as the queen had spoke, the magian died ! " 

I had some years ago another MS. Italian poem, by 
another person, on this s^me subject of Venus and the 
Ring, and v^^ith it sundry collections of traditions, all of 
which, I fear, are lost beyond recovery. 



LAMIA 

" Now there are some who think that the word Lamia is derived from 
the name of that proud and cruel Queen of Lybia who was the daughter of 
Belus and Libyes ; and others that they are Empusas, . . . who are car- 
nium prcEsertim humanarum appetentissimas, very ravenous for human 
flesh." — Fromann de Fascinatione, 1674. 

" Et Philostratus simile narrat de Lamia, Menippi Lycii philosophi, in 
pulchram mulierem apud Corinthum conversa, quam Tyanseus Apollonius 
deprehendit mulierem esse." — Henrici Cornelii Agrippa de Occulta Philo- 
sophia, Lib. iii. chap. 32. 

*'Ut lubrica serpens exuit in spinis restem." — F. Lena. 

It happened on a day after I had been reading the 
poem of Lamia by Keats, that I told the tale to Marietta 
Pery, who recalled the story as she had heard it in 
infancy, and then, being inspired with the spirit of Apollo, 
sat down and flashed off, to a tune which she hummed, 
the romance which I here give, begging the reader to note 
that I print it accurately from the first or original draft, 
without changing a letter : 

Lamia. 

" Dal bel volto gentil dal biondo crine, 
Slanciato il personal, franca e severa ; 
Lamia incedea nel volgo a malo fine, 
E di malvagita ricolma ell' era ; 
Tisti ^ e brutali i sui pensieri avea, 
Del vizio, e del delitto essa era Dea. 

In virtd di stregoni e malefizi, 

E tutto cio che il fatalismo appresto, 

Per contentare i suoi ibridi vizi, 

Nel turpe maleficio sempre desto, 

E come se in far cio non fosse niente. 

Da bella donna divenne serpente. 

1 Tristi. 
248 



LAMIA 249 



Avida di succhiar lo sangue umano, 
Adocchiato un bel giovan di vent' anni, 
Di tutto fece per averlo in mano, 
Non guardando recar ne guai ne danni, 
Ed or vi narrero che fece il mostro, 
Invocando I'aiuto di Cagliostro. 

Su di un vasto piazzal d'alberi adorno 
Di rose, di cipressi e di banani, 
E di ferreo cancel circuito intorno, 
E di aiule ricolmo a pezzi e brani, 
In modo disegnate all' uso inglese, 
Pill bel luogo apparia di tal paese. 

E sulla sommita di si bel sito, 

Che deir ive apparia pendente e gaio, 

Sontuoso palazzo alto infinito, 

E di porte munito in puro acciaio, 

Erger' facea la bella Lamia a incanto 

Un Eden di delizie, e pur di pianto. 

Come turpe serpent^ incantatore, 
In bianco vel vestita, e in crin disciolto, 
Oppresso dall' inganno e del dolore, 
Che a lei tal vita non durava molto, 
Assisa su di un morbido cuscino, 
Aspettava il bel giovin peregrino. 

Guiunse infatti la vittima all' appello 
E nel mentre che Lamia a lui si dava, 
Per il sangue succhiar del tapinello, 
Un negromante sorse che irradiava 
Con fulgurea luce il bel castello, 
E con voci e minaccia a Lamia impera, 
Che serpente ritorni come ell 'era. 

A suppliar Lamia se dette il mago ; 
Dicendo, ' un solo desiderio appago, 
Non mi scoprir di questa vi le azione, 
Che presa son d'amor per tal garzone.' 
Ma a tali detti il gran mago rispose : 
' Non posso dare ascolto alle tue cose.' 



250 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

' Tu infame siei miserabil germe, 
Con un mio cenno faro tutto sparire, 
lo ti calpesto e ti rendo inerme, 
Ringraziami che non ti fo morire ' — 
Ed in si dir del mago tutto fu niente : — 
Lamia nell' erbe ristriscio serpente." 



Lamia. 

Gold locks to beauty greater beauty lent, 
Brave was her mien, at graceful ease, yet stern ; 
Thus Lamia walked the world on evil bent, 
For in all sin she nothing had to learn ; 
Cruel and grim in every thought was she, 
Of vice and crime the very deity. 

Until by sorceries and malefice. 

And all which to fatality belongs. 

And to content her most inordinate vice, 

And finding all her joy in human wrongs. 

The fairest form to her seemed weak and tame, 

So from a woman she a snake became. 

Once meeting a fair youth of twenty years, 

She felt for blood a thirst insatiate. 

And bent thereon, devoid of earthly fears. 

Nor heeding evil which she might create. 

She followed him. I'll tell the whole ere long ; 

Spirit of Cagliostro, aid my song ! 

In a fair place where trees and shrubs abound, 
'Mid rose and cypress and banana bowers. 
Where a grand balustrade passed all around. 
And there were beds for every kind of flowers, 
In the old style which we the English call. 
Of all in the land the fairest of them all. 

And there in many a place the ground-pine grows, 
And many a pleasant herb to soothe or heal. 
And high to heaven a sumptuous palace rose, 
Its portal well adorned with shining steel. 
All this from sorcery did Lamia borrow, 
An Eden of delight, and then of sorrow. 



LAMIA 251 

As a base serpent and a sorceress, 
Clad all in white, with flowing golden hair, 
Oppressed with sin and also in distress 
That she this form only a while could wear ; 
Thus on a full, soft cushion Lamia lay. 
Waiting her fair and foreign youth one day. 

And, as if called, the youth before her stood ; 
Sweetly she smiled because he came to call, 
Yearning intensely still to suck his blood. 
When all at once there entered in the hall 
A mighty magian, who, 'mid the gloom, 
Sent forth a flash of lightning in the room. 
And said to Lamia : ' The farce is o'er ; 
Become a serpent, as thou wert before ! ' 

And then to supplicate she did begin, 
And thus in plaintive accent she did sing : 
' I beg of thee, do not reveal my sin ; 
'Twas all for love alone I did this thing.' 
But unto her the magian stern replied : 
' I will not list to thee, nor aught will hide. 

' Thou'rt infamous, and born in evil hour ; 

All this false show shall vanish at a breath ; 

I scorn thee, and I take away thy power : 

Thank me that thou art not condemned to death.' 

Then at his word all there away did pass — 

Lamia as serpent vanished in the grass." 

When Marietta read this over to me, I objected that 
the allusion to an English garden was rococo, and that 
the invocation to Cagliostro smacked of Dumas. Where- 
upon she naively assured me that in Italian all' uso Inglese 
referred to extremely old-fashioned gardening; ** old- 
fashioned " in her mind representing anything from Louis 
Philippe back to Julius Caesar or Tarquin. Which re- 
minded me that once, w^hen I vv^as describing the old 
Lombard crown of Queen Kunegonda to a young lady, 
she eagerly interrupted me with the remark: "Oh, I 
know what it is like — high old tortoise-shell ; my grand- 
mother had one." 



252 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

However, Bella Marietta, being convinced, re- wrote the 
whole poem, removing allusions to banana-trees, Cagli- 
ostro, and English gardening, and corrected the metre, and 
smoothed the words as with starch and a flat-iron till 
it was pretty enough. But I have preferred to give the 
first rough draft in all its quaintness, that the reader may 
judge what a real Italian improvisation is like. 

There are two points in this her poem which deserve 
special notice. One is, that she said she had heard this 
and the other tales which she wrote for me from her 
nonna, or grandmother. Now this her version of Lamia 
corresponds accurately to the classical story as related 
by Burton in the Anatomy of Melancholy : — 

" Philostratus, in his fourth book, De Vita Apollonii^ hath 
a memorable instance in this kind, which I may not omit, of 
one Menippus Lycius, a young man twenty-five years of age, 
that, going betwixt Cenchreas and Corinth, met such a 
phantasm in the habit of a fair gentlewoman, which, taking 
him by the hand, carried him home to her house in the 
suburbs of Corinth, and told him she was a Phoenician by 
birth, and if he would tarry with her, he should hear her sing 
and play, and drink such wine as never any drank, and no 
man should molest him ; but she, being fair and lovely, would 
die with him, that was (also) fair and lovely to behold. The 
young man, a philosopher, otherwise staid and discreet, able 
to moderate his passions, though not this of love, tarried with 
her a while to his great content, and at last married her, to 
whose wedding, among other guests, came Apollonius, who, 
by some probable conjectures, found her to be a serpent, a 
Lamia, and that all her furniture was, like Tantalus' gold de- 
scribed by Homer, no substance, but mere illusions. When 
she saw herself descried she wept, and desired Apollonius to 
be silent ; but he would not be moved, and thereupon the 
plate, house, and all that was in it vanished in an ijistant." ^ 

It would be absurd to compare, on general grounds of 
poetic merit, this rough improvisation of a poor Italian 
seamstress with the marvellous, magnificent, florid, and 

^ Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy ^ Partiii., Sect. 2, Memb. i, Subs. i. 



LAMIA 253 

tenderly sentimental lyric by Keats. Yet there is a great 
excellence in the former of truth to the original. A 
Lamia was never a dear, good, amorous, pitiable crea- 
ture who loved a youth ; she was ad initio the type and 
proverb of Vileness, a blood-sucker or devil-vampire, 
seeking whom she could devour, under the guise of 
beauty and innocence. Her sole object was to kill 
Menippus and drink his life-blood. Among a hundred 
writers, Keats is the only one who has made her an inno- 
cent, interesting martyr to love, and though much is 
allowed — -pictoribus, et ccBtera — to painters and poets, they 
should never utterly distort and pervert myths, however 
beautiful their perversions may be. There is some- 
thing weak in the invariable sensuousness, this yearn- 
ing for kisses and crime, this long-haired, lank, starved 
Erotomania which seems to wail, '^ How I wish I could 
get — some — love!" and gives to experience an impres- 
sion of wretched men maddened by sexual starvation. 
It would embrace the devil, himself if he came as a pretty 
girl. The Romans, Greeks, and Orientals, who were not 
starved by poverty or piety for want of women, were 
capable of conceiving a Lamia who was beautiful and 
yet deserving punishment. 

The old Grseco-Roman story is directly to the pur- 
pose, and in accordance with it. Marietta has manifested 
a dramatic conciseness deserving comment. That the 
heroine was a deity of vice, and finally got to be so evil 
that the human form became uncomfortable to her, is 
original, and briefly and well expressed in a line : — 

" Da bella donna divenne serpente." 

I beg the reader to bear in mind that a Lamia expressed 
the very worst type of iniquity. Therefore there is great 
art in depicting the progress in vice of the woman, in ex- 
plaining how Lamia was inspired by the virtu of evil 
magic, and '' all that to which fatality led," till she irre- 



254 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

sistibly became a serpent ; in which latter there is a spirit 
of antique belief casting some light on the '^Animism" 
of early races, in which human beings were, or became, 
animals in accordance with their natures. In Red Indian 
tales all animals were once human ; as it was explained 
to me by a Passamaquoddy, in time the brutal, bearish 
men became bears, and the beaverish men beavers, by a 
process of reversed Darwinism. 

The description of the palace recalls Spenser. It is 
succinctly described as — 

*' An Eden of delight — and then of sorrow ; " 

which is a good simile of a fall or change from joy. In 
the original we are told that ^' all vanished in a7i instant " 
— note it well. This is how Keats disposes of the swift 
evanishment : — 

"Then Lamia breathed death-breath ; the sophist's eye, 
Like a sharp spear went through her utterly. 
Keen, cruel, perceant, stinging : she, as well 
As her weak hand could any meaning tell, 
Motioned him to be silent, vainly so. 
He look'd and look'd again a level — No ! 
* A serpent ! ' echoed he ; no sooner said 
Than with a frightful scream she vanished : 
And Lycius' arms were empty of delight. 
As were his limbs of life from that same night. 
On the high couch he lay ; his friends came round — 
Supported him — no pulse or breath they found, 
And in its marriage robe the heavy body wound." 

Marietta makes short work of this, for it is the concise- 
ness of the original story which gives it all its charm ; and 
as we are told in it that "all vanished in an instant," so 
she, catching the idea of ending with a flash, simply states 
in one hne — 

'• Lamia as serpent vanished in the grass." 

Which is an ending not to be surpassed, albeit ristricio 
rather means sliding or sHpping, traihng away — " Ut 
lubrica serpens^ Heine has been greatly praised for 



LAMIA 255 

summing up his small poems in one conclusive telling 
line, but he never really surpassed this. 

" I confess," notes Flaxius, a propos of this, " that I have 
a love of simplicity and strength in poetry, which is not 
in accordance with modern taste. The old Icelandic text of 
Frithiofs Saga is, fifty times over, more charming and poetical 
to me than Tegner's, washy, sweet-pretty version of it, and 
therefore I may be altogether wrong, according to the aesthetes. 
Few, few indeed, and very far between — rari nantes in gurgifo 
vasto — like small potatoes in most distant hills — are the Vic- 
torian or even nineteenth century poets, who have distinguished 
themselves by the classic virtues of clearness, conciseness, and 
the strength which is original. All other merits I may freely 
grant, but these indeed we woefully do want, albeit Virgil and 
Homer are not unknown to us. Our bards are all too diluted — 
think what a concentrated, condensed Wordsworth, or Shelley, 
or Tennyson, or Byron, would have been ! The great masters 
of ancient days all wrote too little ; ours write far too much. 

" Now, as Lamia begins as a beauty and ends as a serpent, 
like Satan's beloved daughter, 'tis clear that she means Sin^ 
and it was as sin, or vileness, horror, cruelty, filth, and poison 
disguised that those who invented her understood her, and 
it is an evil thing to destroy the old landmarks of tradition, 
and give a different meaning to ancient types and characters." 



THE FLORENTINE LEGEND OF LAMIA 

I HAVE another legend of Lamia, gathered by Madda- 
lena in Florence, which identifies her with the serpent,^ 
and to a degree with the Hebrew LiHth : 

Lamia. 

" Lamia is a lady who is half woman and half serpent. She 
was the daughter of rich parents, who, when first married, lived 
together in great happiness. And they were very liberal to 
the poor. But when for a long time the lady bore no children, 
first the husband became angry, and then the wife lost all her 
happiness ; so she went first to the saints, and when they did 
her no good, to witches and wizards ; but all was of no avail, so 
she ceased giving alms, and was unkind to all. 

" One day there came to her a poor old woman who begged 
for charity for her daughter, who would soon be confined. 
Then the lady replied : ' I hope she may bring forth a serpent. 
All the women who have nothing to eat bear children, and I, 
who can have none, must needs support them ! Truly I would 
rather have a serpent for a child than none, and could I have 
my wish, all mothers should bear nothing else ! ' 

" Then the old woman, who was a witch, answered with a 
spell : — 

' * ' Lady, in thy curses wild, 

Thou'st wished a serpent for my child. 

What thou'st said indeed may be, 

But it all shall turn on thee ; 

For thou thyself a child shalt bear 

Unto the waist a maiden fair, 

Beauty in face shall never fail, 

But she shall have a serpent's tail. 

As a fair maid she shall be born, 

But early on the second morn, 

^ "Doubtless the author here refers to Lamia, not Maddalena, albeit the 
trail of the serpentis over 'em all to a certain degree — wizard, witch, and 
poetess — to judge by their works." — Flaxius. 

256 



THE FLORENTINE LEGEND OF LAMIA 257 

Thy husband, with it in his arms, 
Will see the working of my charms ; 
At his first kiss, a wonder strange 
O'er it will come, the serpent change. 
No spirit can the spell undo ; 
The curse will come, I tell you true ; 
No sorcerer the charm can sever, 
She'll be the Lamia for ever ! ' 

" And as it all came to pass, and Lamia in life was a witch, 
and after her death a spirit who did evil to newly married 
couples and newly born children, yet she is so far human that 
she can be appeased or pleased with invocations. Therefore 
those who fear her should say : 

'"Lamia! Lamia! Lamia! 
A te mi racommando, 
Che in pace tu ci voglia 
Lasciare me, e vero 
Che tu siei infelice ; 
Ma colpo noi non abbiamo, 
La tua madre e stata 
Quella che per la felicita 
Sua non ha guardato, 
""^ Alia sfortuna tua, 

Questa quello ti vengo 
A levare al meno. 
Per un poco in p&,ce 
Tu possa stare 1 ' " 

*' ' Lamia ! Lamia ! Lamia ! see ! 
I commend myself to thee, 
That in peace thou lett'st me be ! 
Thou'rt unhappy, as I know ; 
Nor is't thy fault that thou art so, 
But thy mother's, who, 'tis said, 
Brought misery upon thy head ; 
So now I pray by grace of thine 
No harm may come to me or mine. 
As thou dost me from fear release, 
So mayst thou ever be in peace ! ' 

"This must be written on a paper, which is to be taken 
to some place in the country and cast over the shoulder; 
and this being done, the one invoking must walk away with- 
out looking behind." 

This conclusion is an old Roman formula. It may be 
observed that in all those traditions which contain incan- 
tations the narrative or story is a mere frame for the 

II R 



258 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

picture, or a basket for the fruit. They were made by 
witches for witches, not for the multitude. Hence they 
have generally a different character from fairy tales, and 
very often possess a strange originality which excepts 
them from the common tradition. 

The main object of this tale is to give a charm which, 
like the blessing of the rabbi at a Jewish wedding, is 
to prevent the enemy of babes from exercising an evil 
influence, as appears in the Florentine-Jewish poem of 
Barucabba^ where the rabbi — 

** Li benedica 
E li consoli 
Con un buon numero 
Di bei figlinoli, 
Che I'empia Strega 
Lilliri mai oft'enda 
E la lor prole 
Non nasca cieca 
Non zoppa no. 1 
Non gobba, o nana, 
Non istroppiata 
O in altro mo." 

'* Blessed them and solaced them 
With a fair promise 
Of a great number 
Of beautiful children ; 
That the vile sorceress, 
Lilliri^ should never 
Hurt them or their offspring. 
None should know blindness, 
None should be cripples, 
None should go limping, 
None should be hunchbacked, 
None should be dwarfed, 
Or injured in aught." 

This blessing of the rabbi and the incantation of the 
witch are both levelled at two who were, as many 
scholars have declared, in the beginning one and the 
same — Lamia and Lilith, who figures in the Hebrew 

* A halfpenny or soldo broadside sold in Florence, setting forth the 
matrimonial misadventures of a Jew named Barucabba. Like nearly all 
the literature of the kind in existence making fun of the Hebrews, it 
appears to have been written by one of the people, and not by a Goi. 



THE FLORENTINE LEGEND OF LAMIA 259 

melody just cited as Lilliri. The Lamia was always a 
wicked witch, or a being who destroyed. "Lamias," 
wrote Carpzovius, the cruel witch-lawyer, "are beings 
who cause thunderstorms, plot the destruction of man 
and cattle, attend diabolical meetings or synagogues, to 
which they ride on pitchforks, rods, or brooms, and 
exercise carnal iniquity with the devil." Nor was her 
classic prototype one whit better, but rather worse. 

The writing the exorcism on paper, which is most un- 
usual in Italian witchcraft, identifies Lamia with Lilith, 
in so far that the Jews also write their spell out and 
hang it in the room where the sorceress or her comrades 
the Benemmerin are expected to come. Pietro Piperino 
(whom I beheve to have been the original Peter Piper of 
the nursery rhyme), in his work, De Effectibus Magicis^ 
with reckless philology derives Lamia — a Lilith hebrcso 
— from the Hebrew Lilith. It is worth observing that 
to him, as to every writer except Keats, Lamia is simply 
a creature of abomination^, and chiefly a murderess of 
infants, and a cannibal — an enticer of youths in order 
to afterwards devour them — " libidinis cupiditate allicere 
juvenes ut postea devorent ; sic Horatius : 

*' (lH[eri)prans8e Lamise probruiri; vivum extrahat alvo." 

3»e A^4l dUvfc.. ^a*^. 



THE CRICKETS OF THE CASCINE 

" Grillo, mio Grillo ! 
Se tu vo' moglie dillo ! 
Se poi t'un la vuoi, 
Abbada a' fatti tuoi ! " 

— Dettati e Gei'ghi della Citta di Firenze, 1886. 

For some time both before and after Ascension Day 
all the children in Florence — among whom I may include 
most of the elders — are immensely interested in the 
question of crickets. These insects, being caught, are 
sold in pretty httle cages resembling in miniature those 
for canary-birds, and if they sing within a certain time, 
it is a sign of good fortune for the coming year. Others 
acquire luck by taking the captives into the fields and 
setting them free. 

In ancient times, or among Greeks and Romans, the 
cicada, which had a love in common with locusts, grass- 
hoppers, katy-dids, and similar insects, was regarded as 
the most distinguishing harbinger or herald of summer, 
and was specially associated with the Muses and music. 
In the latter respect it took precedence of the nightingale, 
which was regarded, indeed, as being most musical, 
but also most melancholy. Those who are specially in- 
terested in the antiquities of the subject may consult Die 
Symbolik und Mythologie der Natur, by J. B. Friedrich, 
Wiirzburg, 1859, and the chapter on the Cavaletta in my 
Etruscan- Roman Legends (London, T. Fisher Unwin, 
1892). But for this present work I shall chiefly confine 
myself to what I obtained from Maddalena and Marietta 

Pery, the former being, of course, a strange narrative 

260 



THE CRICKETS OF THE CASCINB 261 

based on witchcraft, and the latter a poem by an impro- 
visatrice founded on a legend. Both are in many re- 
spects very interesting, and should the reader chance to 
be in Florence on Ascension Day, he will, I trust, peruse 
them with pleasure : 

Racconto sopra Grilli. 

" There was of yore a magician who stole a beautiful girl and 
shut her up in an enchanted tower.^ This maid had a lover 
who was the son of a king ; and when the youth heard that 
his beloved had been seized by the sorcerer he said : ' Unless 
I seek and find her whom I have lost, I shall go mad.' Then 
he begged pardon and leave of his parents to depart, which 
they gave, with much money and great sorrow, because he 
was their only son. 

" Then mounting his horse he rode on and away, though he 
knew not where to go, and at nightfall found himself weary 
and in a lonely land of rocks and forest and falling waters. 
At last he beheld afar off, like a mere speck, a small house, 
and rode towards it, hoping for a place wherein to rest. And 
on the way he met an infirm 'old woman who hobbled along, 
while two boys were jeering and vexing her. Whereupon the 
Prince, who had a good heart, was displeased, but knowing that 
kindness is as good as correction to cause a cure, gave each 
of them a penny, and said : ' Take care and never do such a 
wicked thing again. You should always respect the lame and 
old; indeed, you should respect everybody, but especially 
your elders, still more the infirm, and most of all the very 
old ; so now be good boys, and beg pardon of the old woman 
for having offended her, and then run home.' Which they 
did forthwith, and that is the last of them in the story. 

*'But the old woman, who was a witch, waiting for the 
coming of the king's son, said: * Handsome youth — bel 
giovane! — I thank thee for having taken my part against 
those boys.' To which he replied politely and pleasantly : 
*I only did a part of my duty, and I now complete it by 
offering you this piece of gold, on which you may live for 
some time.' 

^ The original has torre incatenata^ a chained tower, or one with a draw- 
bridge. But I think that incantata is the real word. I give the whole 
verbatim. 



262 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

" The old woman answered : ' I willingly accept your gift ; 
but tell me, are you not in great trouble ? ' And the Prince 
replied : ' Truly I am more miserable than thou, and need 
something more than thou dost anything, and yet I see thy 
wants are very great : 

*' ' For though thou art in sore distress, 

Thou would pity, I ween, my wretchedness.' 

" ' Dear boy,' rephed the old woman, ' I know it all. Thou 
art the son of the king, and thy love was carried away by the 
magician whom men call the Sorcerer of the Seven Heads. 
And he has shut her up in a tower, into which no man, in- 
deed, may come in human form. But I will turn thee into 
a cricket — lo ti faro diventare Grillo — so that thou canst 
enter in unto her ; that is, thou mayest not carry her at once 
away, firstly, because she is chained ; and, secondly, when thou 
art at the gate below the tower, thou must delay and sing this 
incantation : 

" ' Bono uomo molto infelice i 

Se un grillo potessi diventare, 

Per por' fino alia mia bella arrivare, 

Ma con la grazia 

Delia Strega Lucrezia 

Che ora ho incontrato, 

Che la grazia mi vuol fare, 

Fino alia mia bella potere arrivare, 

E col suo ajuto da questa torre, 

Poterla levare, 

Sono uomo, e grillo 

Voglio diventare, 

E fino alia mia bella 

Voglio arrivare, 

Strega Lucrezia I un grillo 

Fammi diventare ! ' 

" * I am a man, and most unhappy too. 
And could I only take a cricket's form, 
Then I would come unto the one I love. 
But by the favour of Lucretia, 
The powerful witch whom I erewhile have met, 
I know the power will be given me 
To meet my love and take her from the tower. 
A man I am, a cricket I will be — 
Great witch, Lucretia, I call to thee ! ' 

^ This is an incantation in the true irregular witch-measure. The tones 
are prolonged in many places, ending with a peculiar intonation on the 
infinitives. 



THE CRICKETS OF THE CASCINE 263 

"So he passed into the tower as a cricket, and to protect 
him Lucretia called together all the witches and fairies in the 
land, and they flew in with him, so that he was one among 
many; when all at once the sorcerer with seven heads 
entered, and began to sing : 

** * A che puz e di cristiane, 
O cozne, o cazne ! 
Ste quent cogne e quent 
Cha men voi mogne.' ^ 

" Which is in Italian : 

** * O che puzzo di cristiano ! 
O che sene, o che cene stati ! 
Ma quanto cene e quanti mene, 
Voglio mangiare.' 

** * Oh what a Christian stink is here I 

But whether they're here, or here have been. 
Or whether th'are some or none, I ween, 
I'll eat them up, 'tis clear ! ' 

" Then Lucretia made all the crickets sing in a loud voice : 

'* * Siamo grilli strege, 
E stregoni che da grilli, 
Uomini e donne, 
Daver' diventiamo ; 
Ma grilli noi restiamo, 
Cri-cj'i, cri-cri, cri-cri! 
Chantiamo ! Balliamo ! 
Chantiamo — della rabbia 
Per farti crepar. Balliamo ! Chantiamo ! 
Della rabbia per farti stintar. 
Ai sette teste, ben vero e questo, 
Ma noi col nostro cri-ckri, cri-chri ! 
Tutte sette le vogliam' tormentar, 
Fino che la giovane 
Al figlio del re tu voglia, 
Tu voglia scatenar, 
11 figlio del re e qui con noi, 
Per farti crepar, 
Crepar con dolor — 
Cri-cri, cri-cri, cri-cri I 
La giovane va a scatenar. 
Con noi la vogliam' portar ! 
Cri'Cri, cri-cri, cri I ' 

^ The sorcerer here speaks in the dialect of the mountain district of the 
Toscana-Romana, or rural Bolognese. It is very much the * * Fi-fe-fo-fum " 
of * ' Jack the Giant-killer. " 



264 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

' * ' We all are cricket witches 
And wizards, that is plain ; 
Man and woman, 
Formerly human, 
Crickets we will remain. 
Cree-cree, cree-cree, cree-cree ! 
Let us sing and dance — 
Fly back — now advance ! 
Sing till with rage we make you burst, 
We with gladness, until in madness 
You tear off every head accurst. 
Seven heads on you / That may be true 1 
But we, we, we, we, we, we, we, 
With our cree-cree^ cree-cree, cree-cree^ cree I 
Will madden all seven until we see 
You unchain the lady and set her free. 
The bride of the Prince, who is here our chief ; 
Cree-cree, cree-cree ! 
Until we make you burst with grief. 
Set the lady free, we say, 
Then we will carry her far away, 
Cree-cree, cree-cree, cree-cree f 

" And so the sorcerer was maddened by the cry of cree-cree ! 
till he unchained the maiden, who, turned into a cricket, flew 
away with the rest from the tower. 

" Now as to these crickets, or the king of the crickets, and 
what became of them. When the Sorcerer of the Seven 
Heads saw that they had escaped, he said, or sang, this 
incantation : 

" * The maid has escaped from the chains, 

The chains with which she was bound, 

And thou too, O son of a king, 

Who didst show such force and courage 

In entering this tower. 

Which none have entered before 1 

Yet the power was not thine. 

But that of the witch Lucretia 

Who came unto thy aid. 

Now by my magic power 
I conjure and condemn thee. 
Thou with the witches all, 
Who came unto thy aid, 
That only for half the year 
Ye shall have the human form, 
And during the other half 
Crickets ye must remain. 
And on Ascension Day 
Ye shall chiefly feel the charm. 

As prisoners one and all. 

Ye shall live in holes in the earth. 



THE CRICKETS OF THE CASCINE 265 

And cry your cree-cree, cree ! 
And many people shall come, 
Children, women, and men 
Shall come to seek for you. 
Thou only, as the king, 
Shalt ever escape the search, 
And never be taken away, 
For thou shalt be left to guide 
And govern the crickets all. 

And this thou art charmed to do, 

To show especial grace 

To all who love and are loved. 

As the witch Lucretia 

Did give her grace to thy love 

When thou didst win thy bride 

Away from the magic tower, 

And drove the sorcerer wild 

With your cry of cree-cree, cree ! 

Until he was forced to yield. 

As the Princess was shut in a tower, 

Your folk shall be shut in a cage. 

To those who are in luck 

There shall be given to eat 

A bit of salad -leaf, 

Even as thou hadst luck 

When, in the prison-tower, 

Thou didst reclaini the maid ; 

So shall ye, as crickets confined. 

Learn that my charms still bind, 

As in the tower of yore 

Ye were confined before.' " 

Among the people the cricket is a phallic emblem 
or symbol of productiveness, as is abundantly testified 
by the extraordinary amount of coarse double entendre, 
pictorial and printed, which appeared in all the lower- 
class newspapers of Florence only last year, about Ascen- 
sion Day. That is, the Cricket-Prince is a duplicate of 
Adonis, who passes half the year in the gloomy earth, 
and half in the sunshine above with Venus. 

The incantation of the crickets will remind the reader 
of the mad witch-songs by Ben Jonson and other poets 
of his time ; nor is it, indeed, inferior to them : 

" ' Buzz,' quoth the gad-fly ; 
' Hum,' says the bee : 
' Buzz and hum,' they say, 
And so do we." 



266 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

I need hardly say that the cricket story, like all common 
fairy tales whatever, is only a variant from others. The 
legends which come from witch families are generally 
far more original, ruder, and refer chiefly to sorcery. 

The next legend relative to the Crickets of the Cascine 
is all a poem, by Marietta Pery. It is worth noting that 
the crickets from this place are supposed to be superior 
to any other. A man in the Via Calzaioli, who sells 
them every year, always displays a placard stating that 
/lis crickets were born and bred in the Cascine, and 
guaranteed to be of the purest breed. And now to the 
second story, of which I give only what I believe is a 
very faithful close translation, for want of space for the 
original : 

The King of the Crickets. 

" 'Mid flowery meadows by the Arno's stream 
Fair Florence rises, dear to all men's hearts ; 
As if not traced by man, but like a dream, 
The fold of genius, cradle of the arts. 
And Nature seems with a bright sky to bless, 
Free from all hatred and from wickedness. 

There was a Prince Ranieri, well approved. 

Who ruled the army and the city's fate. 

He was by all the people well beloved, 

One of the strongest pillars of the State ; 

So proud and brave, well formed in face and limb, 

All happiness did seem to live in him. 

Upon the summit of th' imperial hill. 
And in a royal home, Ranieri dwelt ; 
He knew no grief, nor had he any ill, 
And in his princely life all joy he felt. 
That was his day, but Cupid on the morrow 
Turned all his song of joy to silent sorrow. 

Oft on his fiery war-horse he would ride 
Upon the Roman road at break of day. 
Where soon a maiden of the folk he spied, 
And glad he was to meet her in his way ; 



THE CRICKETS OF THE CASCINE 267 

For she was beautiful, with long black hair, 
Lovely in face, with grand dark eyes severe. 

She of a wicked stepmother was slave, 
A mongrel hag of colour like to clay, 
Who did with cruelty to her behave, 
Taking all joy from her by night and day ; 
And great indeed her rage was to discover 
That this her victim had a princely lover. 

Yet when Ranieri asked the maiden's hand, 
The grim Megsera said : ' 'Tis sad for me ; 
A stern condition doth her fate commend, 
For unto no one can she wedded be 
Until a hero famed in peace and wars 
Has found the Flower of a Hundred Stars.' 

The Prince, impressed by such a strange command. 
Summoned his strength and said unto the fair, 
That all his life, with helm and trusty brand, 
Both fraud and force he had been wont to dare ; 
And with deep earnestness to her he swore 
That he would seek an4 find the wondrous flower. 

And long through devious ways, among all ranks 
Of men, to seek that flower Ranieri roved. 
Still thinking, on the Arno's flowery banks. 
Still musing on the maiden whom he loved. 
Until one evening in a gloomy wood 
A fearful feeling seemed to chill his blood. 

Mighty of heart and brave although so sad, 
He heeded not the gloomy sky above. 
Nor any darkness round or overhead — 
There was a deeper darkness on his love ; 
When all at once appeared unto his sight 
A lady fair, clad in a garment white. 

And thus she said to him, full gently speaking : 
* O noble Prince, here in this ancient wood, 
I know what 'tis that thou art bravely seeking — 
The mystic flower which has thy search withstood ; 
And on Ascension Day that flower shall be 
For all thy life a memory of me. 



268 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

' And every year, upon that festival, 
Thou'lt put that flower upon a certain tree ; 
But if thou fail an evil fate will fall, 
O Prince Ranieri, upon thine and thee ; 
Thy voice shall change into a cricket's hum, 
And thou thyself a cricket will become. 

' Here, take the flower ! ' She vanished in the shade, 

As doth a shadow of itself a part, 

And Prince Ranieri, half in joy and dread. 

Felt love again warm up and cheer his heart ; 

So, thinking all was well, in happy hour 

He went unto the witch to show the flower. 

And soon there was a wedding gay and glad, 
And life for a long time full lightly sped. 
Although the stepmother did seem half mad, 
That she no more could vex the unhappy maid ; 
And the bright flower, grown common, as they say, 
Was worn by all upon Ascension Day. 

And to the Prince the fairy did appear. 
From Isolotte, with each blooming spring. 
In the Cascine gardens every year. 
Where stately oaks stand in a glorious ring ; 
For her the Prince, at the appointed hour, 
Placed on the mighty oak the promised flower. 

And yet it chanced, on an Ascension Day, 
That Prince Ranieri, when he gained the spot 
Where the great oak-tree grew — at break of day — 
Found, to his grief, the flower was all forgot. 
Then unto him the fairy did appear — 
Stern was her voice, her countenance severe. 

And this she said : ' At length thy pact is broken ; 
Now take the punishment sent from above ! ' 
And all at once, when she these words had spoken. 
The Prince lost beauty, fortune, and his love, 
And, changed into a cricket, went to hide. 
Deep in the earth to wail and there abide. 

The Queen and all the people sought the Prince ; 
But all in vain they sought by hill or dale, 
For as a man no one beheld him since 
That time — until at last there rose the tale 



THE CRICKETS OF THE CASCINE 269 

That in the place where the Cascine lay, 
The Prince had vanished on Ascension Day ; 

And that at sunrise, or in twilight dim, 
The Prince — a cricket now — was wont to sing ; 
And many therefore listened unto him. 
And heard o'er hill and dale his accents ring, 
Outbreaking into verses as they went. 
Inspired with sorrow and with sore lament. 

' I was a prince of countenance severe, 

The earth itself did shake that glance to see ; 

Now I am humble, dark, and live in fear. 

The very stones do now make war on me. 

The passer-by now treads upon my back, 

The idle boy now takes me for his play ; 

I have no strength to bite them, for, alack ! 

I'm naught, and all my power has passed away. 

Unhappy now, I loved a lady fair ; 

By a cursed pact I lost her, as it proved. 

I revelled in a happiness too rare, 

And suffer now as much because I loved. 

All that remains is sand and earth ; I rage 

In vain when taken by a cruel hand, 

And then imprisoned in an iron cage, 

I lose my life — and so runs out my sand ! ' " 

There is indeed in the original of this song a quaint 
and simple expression of antiquity or naiveness, as if it 
had been written centuries ago. And if the reader will 
imagine a poem written by an English dressmaker in the 
style of Spenser, or of Herrick, he may form an idea of 
what a young ItaHan girl is still capable. 

Mr. Leader Scott, in his interesting Echoes of Old 
Florence^ in speaking of heathen customs, remarks that 
'' some have indeed lingered till now, such as the Scoppio 
del Carro, a remnant of the ancient distribution of fire 
from the central altar, and the Ascension Day culto of the 
GrillOy which, I take it, came from the Etruscan scara- 
heusy But among the traditions and incantations of the 
witches — that is, of old fortune-tellers, who also sell 



270 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

amulets and perform certain rites or spells for true be- 
lievers in Florence — the relics of pagan times are neither 
few nor far between, but are, as this work and my 
Etruscan Remains bear witness, extremely and strangely 
abundant. 

On this subject the authors of Walks in Florence say : 

"The mole-cricket is an insect well known in Italy. A 
custom exists of catching them on Ascension Day and con- 
fining them in little reed cages. They are supposed to be 
typical of human life, and that the longer the grilli can be kept 
alive, the longer will be the life of the owner. The custom 
dates from old Etruscan and Greek times. The reed cages 
are figured on the walls of Pompeian houses, and the Sicilian 
Greek poet Theocritus alludes to them. Annually still, on 
Ascension Day, whole families may be seen flocking to the 
Cascine at Florence, and after securing their prisoners, they 
sit down on the grass and partake of their merenda or 
luncheon." 

As regards the antiquity of the custom, it has probably 
always existed wherever small boys were found, it being 
their natural habit to construct cages, and therein im- 
prison flies, beetles, and specially crickets, as a substitute 
for singing-birds. 

The crickets were at one time brought into a church to 
sing, as one may read in Silvia y by Julia Kavanagh : 

"You (English) are far too clever for such things. You 
would never have the pretty cicalas singing vespers on green 
boughs in the Church of Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence. 
. . . It is given up now, but there are people who remember 
seeing and hearing them. A long, long time ago a forest 
was bequeathed for a charity, on condition that cicalas should 
be brought on green boughs, and placed in the church, to 
sing vespers with the canons." 

But Miss Kavanagh is in error when she asserts that 
there are no fairies in Italy. For there is no kind of elf 
or fay, be it the httle household goblin with a red cap, or 
teasing mannikin sprite, or Robin-good-fellow, or brownie 



THE CRICKETS OF THE CASCINB 271 

dweller in the fireplace, who does all the work for the 
maids, or dancer by night, who does not abound in 
Northern Italy, as may be found fully confirmed by tales 
in my work on Etruscan- Roman Rejnains in Popular 
Tradition. '^Wg have no fairies," quoth Silvia. No 
fairies, indeed ! Truly Silvia was not well up in her 
own national folk-lore. Nevertheless it is worth re- 
marking how very ignorant, till within a few years, all 
Italian scholars seem to have been of anything of the 
kind. I have before me a book on sorcery by Dr. Zan- 
golini, 1864, in which every instance or reference is from 
Ovid, Virgil, Pliny, Dante, and other classic writers, but 
not a word from the people. 

The reply to Silvia should have been, " What then are 
folletti SLud/ate ? " since under these two names are found 
every kind of fairy, from the merry Dusio, three inches 
in height, who sits on girls' shoulders, and Remle, the 
drudging gobling of the mill, to the fairy godmother. The 
truth is, that the real faii^y exists in Italy in a greater 
number of forms than in Great Britain ; and there is not 
much trace of all this in all the elder Italian literature. 
Yea, it is true ; and a fine comment it is on the advan- 
tages of a " strictly classical " education, and the confining 
our studies in the vernacular entirely to authors who 
"elevate and refine our style." Among a vast number 
of people in Italy, as a popular novelist has recently 
declared, even at the present day, that man passes for 
highly or even sufiiciently cultivated, who has read 
thoroughly or got by heart the five or six great writers. 
It is time that this state of affairs was passing away, but 
there is still much truth in the assertion that culture is 
(as regards popular tradition) very limited. 

But of improvisatrices — Wordsworth and many more 
have plained that the romantic and spiritual traditions of 
olden time have passed away. One thinks there are no 
more witches revealing curious things, another notes that 



272 LEGENDS OF FLORENCE 

poets who sing as birds do, or improvise, are lost to the 
world — and yet I continue somehow to find them, just as 
others could if they sought them as I do. One poet has 
distinctly declared that the day of speaking statues has 
for ever vanished, and lo ! Jules Hoche, in the Journal 
Amusant of December 14, 1895, announces the adaptation 
of the Edison phonograph to statues, as to clocks, so that 
future ages may have Gladstones and Salisbury s inform- 
ing them what o'clock it is or what time of day, and 
Edwin Arnolds spreading vocally the Light of Asia! 



INDEX 

VOL. II 



Ado and Grauso, 79. 

Agolanti, or Almieri, 142 et seq. 

Agrippa, H. C, 68, 248. 

Ahlefeld, D. von, 173. 

Aldrovandus, 3. 

Amuleiorum, C. Scrutator, 202. 

Ancyra, Council of, 209. 

Angela del Buco, 153. 

Angelo, Michael, 10. 

Angelo Monosini, 215. 

Antonino, San, and the Barber, Story 

of, 74-80. 
ApoUonius, 252. 
Apuleius, 201. 

Apuleius, "Golden Ass," 113. 
Archibusieri, Via degli, 146. 
Ariosto, 40, 243. 
Arno, Proverbs of the, 19. 
Arno, The Spirit of the, 14-20. 
Ascension Day in Florence, 265. 

Bacchus, Invocation to, 85. 
Bacchus, The Wonderful Conjuration 

of, 168-174. 
Bacco and Filomena, 135 et seq. . 
Ballad, Old, 188. 
Baphomet, 49. 

Baptistery, Column near, 163. 
Baptistery, Doors of the, 6-10. 
Baptistery, The Red Pillars of the, 

21-33- 
Barber in Homburg, 78, 79. 
Barber's shop in the Piazza Triniti, 

Florence, 75. 
Baring Gould, 4. 

II. =^73 



Barucabb^, 258. 

Basilisk, 3 et seq. 

Bat, The (Legend of), 202, 203. 

Beleth, 21. 

Belial and Ashtaroth, jS. 

Bella Marta, La, 194. 

Bellaria, Alpena, Alpan, a sub-form 

of Venus, 63, 66. 
Binsfeld, Peter, 121, 179. 
Biondina, La Bella, 42 et seq. 
Boccaccio, 96. 

Boccaccio, The spell of, 61-67. 
Brondo the Gambler and San Zenobio, 

186. 
Buche delle 'Fate — Dens of the 

Fairies, 34. 
Buco, The Del, family, 149. 
Bulwer, E. L., loi. 
Buntingus, Itinerarium Sacr. Script. , 

232. 
Buried treasures, 105. 
Burton, "Anatomy of Melancholy," 

252. 
Butner, Epitome, X2rj. 
Byron, 215. 

Cabala, 238. 

Cagliostro and Dumas, 251, 252. 

Calendario of Florence, 139. 

Canacci, La Via, 89-96. 

Carnival in Florence, 157 et seq. 

Carpzovius, 259. 

Cartwright, 73. 

Caspar, Baltasar, Melchior, 231. 

Castello del Diavolo, "jj. 

S 



274 



INDEX 



Castello del Uovo, 97. 

Cavaletta, The, 260. 

Cavallaria, Palazzo della, 23. 

Cavolaia, La, 22 et seq. 

Cecilia, Santa, 175. 

Celestial Bread, 'j^i. 

Cellin, H. N., 74. 

Cellini, Benvenuto, 194, 195. 

Cerretani, Legend of the Speaking 

Statues of la Via, 53-56. 
C. G. L. (Leland), Poetry by, 84, 97, 

115, 139, 227. 
Chiasso del Buco, Legends of the 

Fountain of the, 149-155. 
Chierico (the priest's boy), 40 et seq, 
" Childe Harold's Pilgrimage," 57. 
Christopher, St., 22. 
Chrysostom, TertuUian, and Augus- 
tine, 177. 
Cicero, 184. 
Clara, Abraham k Santa, 89, 126, 

156. 
Coldstream, Sir Charles, 145. 
Columbus, The Egg of, 180. 
Column, Invocation to the, 164, 165. 
Condotta, Legend of la Via, 175- 

178. 
Corno, Donato di Giovanni d'Agos- 

tino del, 121. 
Corno, Legends of la Via del, 121- 

127. 
Corsa, Peter, 29. 
Constant, L'Abb6, 72. 
Consus, Ganzio, 48. 
Cosimo di Medici, 47, 153. 
Cousin, The, a legend of the Borgo 

Sant' Apostoli, 188. 
Crescentius, 141. 

Crickets, Incantation to, 264, 265. 
Crickets, Song of the, 263. 
Crickets, The, of the Cascine, 260. 

Damasippus, 160. 

Dante, 31, 95, 271. 

Dante, House of, 2. 

Dead, The, returned to life, 146-148. 

Delberto, 204-207. 

De Morgan, W. , 21. 



Devils, Corner of the Four, 184. 
Diana, 209-214. 
Diana, Freya, Bubastis, 209. 
Diavolina, La, a legend of la Via del 

Fiore, 196-201. 
Diavolino of Giovanni di Bologna, 

28, 184 et seq. 
Didius and Yorick, 239. 
Dies Irae, 68. 
Doni, La Zucca, 160. 
Donkey? Who stole the, 113. 
Duke of Dark Corners, 32. 
Dusio, the Tiny Goblin, 271. 

Edwin Arnold, 272. 

Egg, The Dream of the, 179-183. 

Eggs, Wonders with, 179. 

Eigir, kelpie, Lurlei and Necke, ig. 

Elisabetta, La Via Santa, 139-141. 

Erotomania, 253, 

Esquiros, Alphonse, 57. 

Etruscan- Roman Legends, by Charles 

Godfrey Leland, 194, 200, 213, 260, 

270, 271. 
Eurydice, Auradice, 63. 
Evandro the Fool and his Wise 

Uncle, 156-161. 
Excalibur, 16. 

Faceti^ Diverse (1636), 109. 

Fairies in Italy, 270, 271. 

Fairy female hands, 15, 16. 

Fana, Tana, and Diana, 211. 

Fate Fairies, 23. 

Father Tom, 121. 

Ferriecchi, Via, 30. 

Fieramosca, La, 166. 

Fiesole, 34 et seq. 

Fiesole, Stories of, 34-52. 

Figaro, 74. 

Fiorentiono, L'lUustratore, for 1838, 
196. 

Flaxius, 5, 9, 13, 19, 32, 47, 52, 56, 
59, 96, loi, 106, 113, 120, 127, 135, 
138, 145, 155, 167, 174, 178, 195, 
201, 203, 208, 213, 229, 255. 

Florence, How the City of, got its 
name, 81-83. 



INDEX 



275 



Florio the artist, 53 ei seq. 

Flower of the Hundred Stars, 267. 

Flying Children and the Devil's Dic- 
tionary — The Barber and the 
Bumble-bee. Vide San Antonio, 

74- 
Folco Portinari, 95. 
Fountain, The Faun of the, by the 

Ponte Vecchio, 84-88. 
Fouqu^, La Motte, 34. 
Fran9ois Villon, 109. 
Frank MacLaughlin, The story of, 

113. 

Freya, 15. 

Friedrich, Mysteries of water, 88. 

Friedrich, Symbolik der Natur, 51, 

125, 202, 260. 
Fromann, J. C. , 191, 230, 232, 248. 

Gabriel the Red Indian and the 

Telephone, 61. 
Galileo, i et seq. 
Gallo, La Torre del, i. 
Gardo, Cronaca Pisana di, 21, 22. 
Genzio, Incantation to, 49, 50. 
Genzio, Legend of, 45 et seq. ' 

Geronimo, Padre, 169 et seq. 
Ghetto, The, 128. 
Ghiberti, Legend of, 6-10. 
Ghirlandaio, Paolo, de Sortilegiis, 

203. 
Giannoro and Olympia, 129. 
Ginevra di Almieri, 142 et seq. 
Giuliano del Carmine, 14. 
Gladstones and Salisburys, 272. 
Glastonbury, King Harold at, 72. 
Gold found in Bologna, 105. 
Goldschmidt, P., 179. 
Goldschmidt, Peter [Hexen Advokat), 

29. 
Gomitolo, d'Oro, La Via del, and 

how it got its name, 227. 
Gonella, 161. 
G. P. R. James, 234. 
Grand Duke, The ; or, The Novel of 

Ipolito, 115. 
Grand Old Man, The Honourable, 10, 
Grillo, mio grillo, 260. 



Grimm, 239. 

Gualtiero, The Dreams of, 215-219. 
Guicciardini, 231. 

Gulliver, Big and Little Endians, 
181. 

Hanki-panki, 80. 

Hare, J. C, 34, 94. 

Hare-lore, 126, 127, 

Heine, H., "Gods in Exile," 168, 228, 

243- 
Hildebrand, Wolfgang, 127, 183. 
Hoche, Jules, 272. 
Homer, 252. 
Horatius, 259. 
Horner, The Sisters, 30, 94. 
Huldra, 15. 
Hulme, Edward, 4. 

Ideals and Models, 60. 
II Asino, 107. 
Improvisatrices, 271. 
Incantation to a Fly, 220. 
Incantation to Dream, 215. 
Incantation to the Red Pillars of the 

Baptistery, 31. 
Industrial Art Education, 56. 
Inscription in Via dei Neri, 17. 
Insect-lore, 79. 
Invocation to the Fountain of the 

Chiasso del Buco, 154. 

JAMBLICHUS de Mysteriis, 53. 

Jebb, Mrs. Richard, 43. 

Jesus Christ and St. Peter, 135 et seq. 

John, Saint, Eve of, 28. 

Jonson, Ben, 265. 

Journal Amusant, 272. 

Kavanagh, Julia, 270. 
Keats, John, 89, 235, 248, et seq. 
King of the Crickets, The, 266-269. 
' ' Knickerbocker's History of New 

York," 32. 
Kornemannus, H., 68. 
Kunegonda, Queen, 251. 
Kunipert, King, 78. 



276 



INDEX 



Lamia, 248 ; Invocation to, 257, 
Lamia: The Florentine legend of, 

256. 
Lang (A.), 239. 

Legerdemain, Ecclesiastical, 72. 
Leland, C. G., 21, 39, 204. 
Lena, F., 248. 
Leone, Via del, 121. 
Lilith, Lilliri, 259. 

Lister, Miss Roma, 23, 52, 64, 72, 73. 
Livia, The Empress, 180. 
Loki, 48. 

Loredano, G. F., 184. 
Luigi, San : Eligio, Aloysiiis, Aloy, 



Maddalena, 22, 34, 47, 48, 68, 69, 

75, 95, 146, 166, 204, 239, 257. 
Magi, The three, 232. 
Magic Mirrors and Stones, 29. 
Magna Charta, 68. 
Manticora, Manicore, 4. 
Mardio, Anaisa, and Giurguna, 149- 

155- 
Mario and Grisi, 96. 
Martin, Saint, 124, 125. 
Martino d' Amelia, 117. 
Masius, "Studies from Nature," 87. 
Medici, A legend of the, 126-133. 
Mendelssohn, 45. 
Menghi, Girolamo, 53. 
Menippus Lycius, 252. 
Mice and Cats, 211. 
Michelet, La SorcUre, 211. 
Mill, Darwin, and Herbert Spencer, 

39- 
Milton, I, 4, 5. 
Miniato, San, 2. 

Minor Arts and Industries, 39, 40. 
Miser, Synonyms for a, 106. 
Morpheus, The Infernal, 177. 
Morte, Story of the Via della, 142- 

I4S- 
Moscone, II ; or, the Blue Bottle Fly 

and the Mosquitoes, 220. 
Mosquilli, or Mosquitoes, Incantation 

to, 222-226. 
Murray, John [Guide), i, sr. 



Nerli, De', and Del Vecchio (Vecchi- 

etti), 31. 
Nineveh, 68. 

Norse, or Weird Sisters, 231. 
Nortia, Nails, 32. 
Nuraghi, Towers of, Sicily, 139. 

Olim, King, 157. 
Ogilvy, D., 128. 
Oneida Indians' stone, 138. 
Orpheus, 63, 64. 
Oubliette, 31. 

Ovid, Metamorphoses, 135, 149, 211- 
271. 

Patrick, St., 80. 

Pebbles of the Arno, The, 135-138. 

Pen and Ink, Incantation of the, 62. 

Perrault, 239. 

Pery, Marietta, 242 et seq. 

Peter Rugg, 13. 

Petrarcha, Francesco, 180. 

Peucer, C, and Godelmann on 

Magic, 177. 
Philostratus, 252. 
Photographs, 46, 
Piazza dei Tre Re, Legend of la, 

or how the Three Kings of the 

East appeared to a young man in 

Florence, 230. 
Piazza delle Cipolle, 103. 
Pico di Mirandola, 234. 
Pidgin-English Sing-Song, 77. 
Pietre, Invocazione alle, 136, 137 

138. 
Pietro Piperino, 259. 
Piovano Arlotto, 40 et seq. 
Pisans and Florentines, 21, 22, 
Pliny, 271. 

Poetess, Incantation to become a, 65. 
Pomegranate, 64. 
Ponte Vecchio, 17 ; Gothic inscription 

on, 17, 18. 
Por San Maria, 57. 
Porta Rossa, Legend of; or, How 

Signore Dozzi stole the Donkey, 

107-114. 
Practical Education, 39. 



INDEX 



277 



Praetorius, Johannes, 126-181. 

Pretty Fairy-Tales, 214. 

Proconsolo, Via del, 95. 

Proverbs, 91, 92, 97, 98, 99, loi, 115, 
117, 119, 121, 122, 124, 130, 142, 
152, 160, 180, 182, 190, 194, 206, 
215, 218, 235. 

Pulci, Luigi, 243. 

Rabelais, 72. 
Racconto sopra Grilli, 261. 
Ramerino, Via del, 69. 
Ranieri, Bishop, 30. 
Ranieri, Prince, 267. 
Read, Miss, 38. 

Remle, the Goblin of the Mill, 271. 
Renaioli, or sand gatherers of Flo- 
rence, 17. 
Revenge by suicide, 125. 
Rhcecus and the Dryad, 222, 
Ricci, La Torre dei, 139-144. 
Riolanus, 232. 
Rocca Casciano, 90. 
Rondinelli, Antonio, 142 et seq. 
Rose-Garten of Chrimhilde, 201. 
Rosicrucians, loi. 1 

Salani, Adriano, 145, 

Salviati, Legend of la Villa, 89-96. 

Saint John, Columns of, 23 et seq. 

Sampson, John, ig. 

Santa Croce, how it got its name, 
11-13. 

Santa Croce, Via, 69. 

Santo Spirito, A legend of la Via, 
i8r, 182. 

San Zenobio, Lives of, miracles by, 
165, 166. 

Sassetti, Legend of la Via, 184-187. 

Saxo Grammaticus, 6. 

Scala, Via della, 93. 

Scarabeus, Etruscan, 269, 270. 

School of the Fairies, 35 et seq. 

Scott, Leader, "Echoes of old Flo- 
rence," 269. 

Secret language of the old Irish 
bards, 19. 

Seneca, Maxims, 184. 



Sethlans, The Etruscan Vulcan, 71. 

Setlano, Incantation to, 70, 71. 

Shakespeare, i. 

Shelley, 53, 142, 144, 146, 175. 

Shelta, or the tinkers' language, 19. 

Silvia, 270, 271. 

Sir Thomas Browne and the Rabbis, 

126. 
Slander a proof of greatness, 9. 
Smith, The ghostly, or Lo Spirito 

Manescalco, 11-13. 
Snail and Earthworm, 49, a, 51. 
Snail-lore, 51, 52. 
Southey, Robert, 243. 
Speaking statues, 55, 56 et seq. 
Spenser and Herrick, 269. 
Spenser's " Fairie Queene," 240. 
Straw-braiding first taught at Fiesole 

by the Fairies, 37, 40, 
Strozzino, The Palazzo, 103-106. 
Succubus, Incubus, 125. 
Sudden memories, 14. 
Sybils, The, of Florence, 68-73. 

Tana, La Dea della Luna, 211. 
Tarocco, or Cards, 69. 
Tasso, Rinaldo, 135. 
Tauler and the Quietists, 79. 
Temme, Volksagen, 220. 
Teodora and Chanetta, 7. 
The Lost Chord, 63. 
The Lost Sheep, 109. 
The New Woman, 52. 
The Ring ; or, Diamond cut Dia- 
mond, 240. 
Theocritus, 270. 
Thieves' Hand of Glory, 76, 
Tickell, 14. 
Tolosani, 165, 166. 
Trina the Witch, 72. 

Ugolo and Gherardo, A story of La 

Via Baldracca, 97-102. 
Uovo, La Signora del, 181. 

Vacchereccia, Via, 149. 
Vaccuccia, 115. 
Vecchio Mercato, 31. 



278 



INDEX 



Velluti, Legend of la Via dei, or the 

Witch of the Mirror, 191-195. 
Venus and the Ring, 243. 
Venus and the Sculptor, 57-60. 
Venus di Medicis, 57 ei seq. 
Vere de Vere, Lady, 209. 
Veronica Cibo, Princess, 95. 
Via Calzaioli, 142. 
Via deir Anguillara, 97. 
Via Fiesolana, 112. 
Via Gelsumino, A legend of, 81-83. 
Via Guicciardini, 84. 
Via Lambertesca, A legend of, 57. 
Via Tornabuoni, 107. 
Vierzon, Paul, 232. 
Villa del Gioiello, 2. 



Villani, G., and Luigi Strozzi, 167. 
Virgil, 271. 

"Walks in Florence," 270. 
White Horse, Cavalier of the, 140. 
'^\Q\3jaA,Ahderites,i.^i;,Musarionfi^. 
Witches and Fairies, loi. 
Witch-Money, 210. 
Wordsworth, 212, 271. 

Zandolo, The Wizards' Apollo, In- 
cantation to, 66, 67. 

Zangolini, Dr., 271. 

Zeiler, Ursinus, and Martin Luther, 
126. 

Zenobio, The Column of, 162-167. 



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